Purgatory
by Kaslyna
Summary: AU set shortly after the events of Season 5's "Loves Me Not". Do not read if you don't like spoilers. It is a Woody/Jordan story and my first attempt at writing Crossing Jordan fanfiction, so please be kind.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Set after Loves Me Not, 5x10. AU story, and yes, I have read other stories with similar plots, but I'm writing this anyway because I'm crazy and I'm different and I just want to, so if you want to slash me then screw you, I'm not copying a plot. Some of the dialogue is taken from 5x10.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan, though I hope I won't end up owning a lawsuit.**

He tasted unlike anything Jordan had tasted before. It was masculine, and it was one-hundred-percent _him_, 100% Woody. The taste of moonshine and taffy and sweat and hard work lingered pleasantly on her tongue as the first rays of sunlight wafted through the windows of the hotel room. She blinks awake and frowns, feeling his weight on her back. Slowly, carefully, Jordan tries to peel his arm off her without waking him up. No such luck; he moves and with a lazy grin says, "Hey."

"Hey," she smiles, and he grunts a little and stretches, rolling over to the other end of the bed.

"Think the roads are open yet? I gotta testify in the Grant Meyers trial tomorrow so I gotta get back," Woody sighs, trying to make small talk.

Jordan snorts and clasps her hands over her covered chest and replies, "I hope they _fry_ that bastard."

** "**Should we really be talking about this, right now? I mean, this is kind of big. Maybe we should take like five minutes to..." Woody sighs again.

"Talk about what we did last night?" Jordan supplies for him.

"Well, yeah. What it meant, what it means... for us," he says and quickly adds, seeing her expression, "If anything."

"I've got a problem I should deal with," Jordan sighs, fidgeting a little bit.

"What are you gonna tell him? You wanna know how I feel?" Woody peers at her, trying to assess her mood.

"Yeah," she rolls her eyes and he stares at her; exasperated she yells, "No! I just wanna know how _I _feel!"

Jordan continues grumbling under her breath as she sits up and swings her legs over the side of the rumpled bed. She tugs at the sheet, making sure it is covering her completely before turning and giving Woody a sad smile.

"I'm going to go shower," she tells him, nodding to herself.

"Okay," he says coolly, staring up at the ceiling as she stands up and walks into the bathroom. In his peripheral vision, Woody sees her curvaceous figure; she is _not_ skinny, but she is of average weight.

"It's _skin_, Woody," she sighs, and he looks up at her, "Stop staring."

"Kind of hard when you're just prancing around like that," he mumbles, and if glares could kill, the glare she sends him would have him writhing in agony and struggling for breath right about now.

Jordan starts the shower and steps in quietly, drawing the curtain and ducking her head under the spray. She hums quietly to herself as she runs her hands through her hair.

"What song is that?" she stops and blushes at the sound of his voice.

"How long have you been in here?" she asks.

"That's not fair, Jordan," he chuckles slyly, "I asked first."

"Every Breath You Take! By The Police!" she throws her arms up in frustration.

"I've been in here about three minutes," he tells her.

"Thank you for answering," she growls.

A silence permeates the room, and for a moment, Jordan believes Woody has left. Then his voice comes out serious and meaningful, "I'd do anything for you, Jordan, gladly. I love you."

"Woody," she sighs in a please-not-right-now way and continues, "I've got a lot to sort out right now, and I can't… I can't say the same thing and not be lying."

"He's a great guy, Jo," he tells her, hurt, "Lucky bastard."

She laughs and says, "Thanks."

"He is," he protests.

"About what you said the other night," she says cautiously, "About knowing what we want and saying what we want being two different things?"

"Yeah?" Woody asks quizzically.

"I think," she pauses and takes a deep breath, "I think you're right, Woods. J.D. is a great person but… he's not the one. I know who that person is but it's just too damn complicated for me to get involved. I'm trying, I really am, with J.D. and I know he loves me but I don't love him back. It's too fast, Woody."

"Who's the one, Jo?" his voice is softer, kinder.

She snorts and asks, "Do you _really_ need me to say it?"

"I do, Jo," he says quietly.

"Fine! Woody, it's you. Fine, you win. I'm in love with you, okay? You happy now?" she snarls.

"I am," he tells her, "But you're obviously not."

"Oh, really? Where did you get _that_ impression from?" she sneers.

"You're being unnecessarily harsh, Jo," he says quietly.

"I just slept with my best friend, cheated on my boyfriend, and…" her voice trails off and Woody grows worried.

"Jo? Jo, what's wrong?" he asks anxiously.

Jordan slumps down in the shower, eyes wide and unblinking. He opens the curtain a little bit and she looks up at him.

"Jo?"

"We didn't use a condom," she murmurs, squeezing her eyes shut and calculating.

"It's okay," he panics, "You're on the pill, right?"

"No," she whispers, horrified, "I mean, _normally_ I am, but… but I didn't exactly _plan_ on getting snowed in _and_ sleep with you, Woody, so I didn't… I didn't bring them with me, because I thought I'd be home…"

He sucks in a sharp breath and tells her in a worried voice, "It'll be okay, Jo. If you're pregnant, we'll handle it. We'll get through it together, I promise. I promise I'll be there for you, Jo."

She nods, dazed, and takes his extended hand. He turns off the shower and brushes some of Jordan's hair over her shoulders. Woody smiles reassuringly and Jordan tries to smile back but fails. Realizing she is naked, Jordan awkwardly folds her arms across her chest. Seeing this, Woody grabs a towel and tosses it to her.

"Thanks," she whispers.

Sluggishly, as if in a trance, Jordan wraps the towel around her torso and steps out of the shower. Woody hesitantly places a hand on her lower back.

"You can't know," he murmurs, "It's too soon, Jo. You might not be pregnant."

"Is it wrong?" she looks up, terrified.

"Is what wrong?" he asks, furrowing his brow in confusion. "I'm afraid I don't follow you, Jo."

"Is it wrong…" her voice falters, and she closes her eyes and takes a shuddery breath before exhaling and continuing, "Is it wrong for me to _want_ to be pregnant, Woody?"

His eyes widen in shock and he wonders aloud, "Where the hell did _that_ come from, Jo? I thought you didn't really want kids."

"No," she murmurs, shaking her head, "I told you that _three years ago_, Woody. People can change in that time. I'm going to be thirty-seven soon, and let's face it, I'm not exactly young. I'm at the prime age to get pregnant, and maybe… maybe if I am pregnant, maybe it's for the best."

He strokes her cheek and smiles at her before saying, "You'll be a great mom some day, Jo. Even if you aren't pregnant now, you _will_ be a mom some day; I can just _feel_ it in my skin. I love you so much, Jo."

She places her hand over his on her cheek and closes her eyes, leaning into him for support as she murmurs wistfully, "I love you, too, Woody. Somehow, some way, I love you… maybe not the same exact way, but God, you cocky bastard, I love you."

"Let's get dressed and get some breakfast. Do you want to drive to Boston or me?" he tells her, trying to reinsert normalcy.

"Me," she smiles, and he laughs.

"Some things _never_ change, no matter what, I suppose," he quips, following her into the bedroom.

"I think you're right," she mumbles absently as she picks up her clothes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I hate time skipping, but I really, really don't want to write a giant novel. I figure I'll write until I'm done. I'm not a doctor so sorry if anything is inaccurate. I hope I can incorporate some good angst from my playlist I listen to when I write. **

**Disclaimer: Still own nothing. Dammit.**

ONE MONTH LATER…

"Jordan?" Jordan slowly looks at Dr. Garrett Macy and smiles tiredly.

"Uh… sorry, yes?" she yawns a little bit.

"Are you okay, Jordan? We're ready to start the autopsy," Garrett asks.

"I'm fine," she sighs, "Just a little tired is all. I haven't slept well the past few days."

"Alright," he nods, "Let's get started, then."

She watches as he starts to cut through the skin tissue carefully. Jordan stares at the bloody muscles and there is a sudden whooshing in her ears. She leans back against the tools and tries not to lose it.

"Jo? You okay?" he asks, and she nods.

Jordan watches in horror as he lifts the spleen out of the body. Suddenly, the whooshing in her ears is more consistent and Jordan is running for the nearest trashcan. She leans over it and heaves up her lunch. She feels Garrett's hands on the back of her neck, taking her hair off her face and trying to soothe her. When the vomiting and dry heaves have successfully passed, Jordan slumps down with her head on the cool metal of the wastebasket. She squeezes her eyes shut and moans quietly, trying to fight the next wave of nausea that comes her way.

"Jo?" Garrett says.

"I'm fine," she groans, shoving at his chest weakly.

"Fine people, especially doctors, do not immediately lose it as soon as they see an autopsy," Garrett folds his arms across his chest sternly.

"I need," Jordan swallows, "I need to be alone for a little while. I really need some air, I'm going to go take a walk, and hopefully when I return I won't be barfing left and right."

"Okay," Garrett nods, "Try to be back within an hour, but if you can't, that's fine. I understand."

"Thanks," she whispers, nodding as she takes his hand and stands up.

"You're welcome," he sighs and smiles weakly.

Jordan leaves in a daze, sinking into the sofa at her office. She mentally came up with a list of her symptoms: nausea, dizziness, fatigue, nightmares, loss of appetite, oversensitive breasts… it was all there, plain as daylight, and Jordan shuddered. Her period was _late_. Thirteen days late, and Jordan could not deny the fact any longer. She _had_ to tell Woody, and quickly. Jordan gets up and takes a walk in the frigid late February air. At CVS, she buys the pregnancy test quickly and uses the pharmacy's bathroom. The three minutes in the restroom were the most agonizing moments of Jordan's entire life. Then, she picks up the stick. On it is the most obnoxious pink plus in the history of, well, pink pluses.

"Fuck," she mumbles, "Fuck."

***

On her way to the precinct, Jordan knocks ideas around in her brain about how she is going to tell him. _It'll be fine_, she tells herself as she enters the building. He _had_ promised to help her, after all. They had both known it was a possibility- a slight one, but a chance nonetheless.

"Is Woody in?" she anxiously asks the first officer she sees.

"No, sorry, Jo," he smiles, "He went out to pick up a suspect."

"Ah," she nods.

"Is there something I could do for you?" he asks.

"Oh," she smiles, "No, no it's okay. Just, uh, tell him I need to speak to him soon, okay? Tell him to find me when he's ready."

"Will do, Jo," the young man laughs, "I'll see you."

"Bye," Jordan smiles and waves.

At the morgue, Garrett confronts her as she sits in her office.

"How'd your walk go?" he asks.

"I know what's wrong," she nods, "Actually, what's _right_, that's more like the truth."

"What is it?" he asks.

Jordan looks up and says, "I'll tell you when I tell someone else, okay?"

"Okay," he nods, "Just for the record, I'm pretty sure what you're saying, Jo, but I'll pretend I don't know."

"Thanks," she chuckles.

"You're welcome," he sighs, shaking his head and leaving, "Be extra careful, Jo."

"Will do," she promises.

She sighs and opens the autopsy report for the man she had been helping. Adam Winston, twenty-three years old, _murdered_. Sometimes, these cases really got to Jordan. Sometimes, it was just too damn much. She picks up the phone and dials her OB/GYN quickly.

"Hey, I'd like to schedule an appointment," Jordan tells the receptionist.

"Okay, with whom?"

"Doctor Jasmine Nash," Jordan sighs.

"Okay, we can fit you in tomorrow at 4:30 PM. How does that sound?"

"Great," Jordan nods, "It sounds great. I'll be there."

When Jordan hangs up the phone, she finds Lily, who is in her office.

"Hey," the redhead smiles, "What's up?"

"I need you to help me," Jordan says seriously, "As a friend."

"Okay, with what?"

"Would you mind taking me to Boston General tomorrow at 4:30? I need to see my doctor, and I want you there for moral support," Jordan tells her.

"All right," Lily nods, "May I ask what this is about?"

"You have to promise me you won't tell a soul."

"I promise."

"I'm pregnant," Jordan squeezes her eyes shut and listens to Lily's sharp intake of breath.

"Is it Pollack's?" she asks.

"No," Jordan blushes, "Uh, it's not his, it's, uh, Woody's. I'm having Woody's baby."

"Oh my God," Lily says, "How far along are you, Jo?"

"Uh, what day is again?"

"February 28," Lily answers.

"Then, uh, I'm about a month along," Jordan says, "Wow. I can't believe that I'm a month pregnant."

"So it happened in Littleton, then," Lily nods, "I could tell something was up."

"Yeah," Jordan nods, "It just sort… it just happened, you know? He just hugged me and told me he missed our relationship, and I, uh, started kissing him and… and one thing lead to another, I guess, and now here I am, pregnant and single."

"He's not supporting you?"

"Oh, I don't know," Jordan chuckles, "I wasn't exactly nice to him, so I really don't blame him if he wants out."

"You're not nice, Jo," Lily smiles, "You're you, and you're tough and strong and you may come off as mean, but that's who you are, and if he doesn't understand that by now, well, he needs to see a neurologist, because _something_ is wrong with his brain."

Jordan laughs and says, "Well, I'm going for a walk. I'll see you around, Lily."

"See you," Lily smiles and watches as Jordan leaves.

***

Jordan does not realize where she is going until she is outside the precinct. She takes a deep breath and steps inside. Then, Jordan goes to Woody's desk, sits in his chair, and waits.

"Hey," she looks up to see Lu.

"Oh, hey," she nods curtly, "You seen Woody around?"

"Uh, yeah," she says, "He's interrogating a suspect. Should be out soon, why?"

"I need you to get him for me," Jordan says, "Please. It's important, Lu, just take over, I don't really care, I need to talk to him right _now_."

"Okay," she nods stiffly, heels clicking as she heads to the interrogation rooms. When Woody shows up, irritation is plain on his face.

"Why the hell did you have me pulled out, Jo?" he demands.

"I need to talk to you," she sighs, "I'm pregnant, I just found out this morning."

"So? It's probably Pollack's baby. We only had sex _once_, Jo, be realistic," he folds his arms across his chest.

Jordan bolts up and screeches, "Unlike you, you bastard, Pollack used _protection_ each time we had sex. Maybe if you had thought of that, I wouldn't be here!"

"You came onto me," he says quietly, "You can't pin this on me."

"Woody, you son-of-a-bitch, I did _not_ get pregnant on my own. Now, you said you would help me," Jordan growls.

"I can't," he sighs, "I've… Jo, I've met someone else."

"Oh? Who?" she asks.

"No one you know," he says, "Look, we'll talk about this later."

With hot tears stinging her eyes, Jordan watches Woody walk away. Her heart aches and she wants to follow him, but she cannot. She places her hands on her stomach and stares in the direction he had walked off to. Eventually Lu comes out and tries to talk to her, wondering if she is all right. Jordan merely nods, gulps back her tears, and leaves in a quiet huff, wondering where it all went wrong.

***

"We need you to do an autopsy," Jordan looks up sleepily at Garrett and smiles a broken smile.

"What's wrong?" he asks, coming and sitting beside her.

Jordan sighs and rests her head against his chest. "Everything is wrong."

"What happened to your previous attitude?"

"Gone," she grumbles, "Straight out the window, as well as all my hopes and dreams and plans."

"What was your news, Jo?"

"I'm pregnant, Garrett," she whispers.

"It's not Pollack's," he states calmly.

"No," she sighs, "It's not. I swear, Garrett, you missed your calling. You're a psychic."

He chuckles and asks, "Who's baby is it, Jo?"

"Woody's," she mumbles into his shirt.

"Littleton Village," Garrett says quietly, feeling Jordan nod her head.

"I was stupid," she sighs, "We knew… we knew this was a possibility. He promised to be there for me, and I naively believed him. He has a new girlfriend and he accused me of, uh, well, getting pregnant on my own, basically."

"I'll talk to him."

"No, don't," she smiles sadly, "It's okay. Really, Garrett… I have about eight months left; I can sort this out in that time."

"Okay," he nods and gets up to leave. In the doorway, Garrett turns and looks at Jordan, her head buried in her hands, chest heaving with grief, and his heart aches for her. Unable to take it any longer, Garrett silently closes the door and walks off to autopsy somberly.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Muahaha, the stuff Evanescence and Nickelback can inspire you to write! I hope to move the story along relatively quickly. Remember, I am not a doctor, just a girl who is almost fourteen. Speaking of which, I have a challenge. Can I write up to chapter fourteen by March 3, my birthday? I'm going to try! Good luck to me, I only have thirteen days, so a chapter a day until March 3, then a chapter every other day or so.**

**Disclaimer: I own a deep hatred for rap music, but not the damn show.**

"I cannot believe you are honestly making me do this, Jo," Lily sighs.

"Shhh! He's coming!" Jordan smacks her friend's arm. Lily glares but says nothing as the two girls continue to steak out the Chinese café where Woody had planned to meet his new girlfriend.

It is then that they see a young female, who is maybe five-foot-two, with sandy waist-length curls, tanned skin, sandy freckles, and large celery green eyes. Her cherry red lips scream "FAKE" and Jordan wants to punch her. The girl cannot honestly be older than twenty-eight, _if_ that.

"Hello," Jordan says, going over to her, a fake smile plastered on her face.

"Hello," the girl's voice is shy and melodious, "May I help you?"

"Yeah," Jordan nods, "Who are you and why are you here?"

"I'm Evelyn Dower, pediatrician," she smiles uncomfortably, "Who are you?"

"Jordan Cavanaugh," she squints, cocking her head to the side, "You wouldn't happen to be here to meet Woody Hoyt?"

"Actually, yes, I am," her smile grows, "He's my boyfriend."

"For how long?" Jordan asks.

"I don't see how that is really any of your business, miss," she says, trying to get past Jordan but failing.

"You want to know _why_ it's my business?" Jordan growls.

"Yes, I would," Evelyn nods.

"Well," Jordan smiles evilly, "I'm his friend."

"So?"

"So," Jordan takes a deep breath, "I'm pregnant. He's the father."

Evelyn's face pales and she asks, "No- that's impossible. I've dated him since Valentine's Day; he didn't mention a pregnant girlfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend," she sighs, "I'm just his friend. And, because of _you_, my dear, in eight months time I will be a single mother."

"Well, sorry to hear that," she shrugs, "But Woody didn't mention you, lady."

"Not once?" Jordan's resolve wavers.

"Nope, not even while he was drunk," Evelyn shakes her head. "I'm going to be late, excuse me."

"Stay the _fuck_ away from him!" Jordan growls, hand around Evelyn's arm.

Lily watches the two fight, and she watches as Evelyn swings a punch. Like a cat, Lily springs to her feet and grabs Evelyn's fist before it meets Jordan's stomach.

"Enough!" Lily shouts, "God, you two are _adults_! Jordan, so help me God, I will murder you."

Jordan stares at Lily blankly, not used to her anger. It is just then that Woody comes up. Lily drags Jordan down into the bushes while Evelyn glares at her reflection in the restaurant doors.

"Hey," they watch as Woody goes up behind her.

"It's over," she whispers, walking away.

"Jordan," he growls, "I know you're watching me."

Jordan stands and he sighs and tells her, "Get some help, Jordan. You really need it."

***

Jordan glares at the telephone on her desk, daring it to ring. Finally, she sighs angrily and picks it up, dialing the number he had given her.

"Hello?" Max answers.

"Hey, dad," she says, voice strangled with emotions.

"Jordan? What's wrong, honey?" he asks, concerned by her state of mind.

"Um, could I, uh, visit you in New York soon?" she croaks.

"Sure, sweetie," he says, "When will you be coming?"

"Oh, uh, maybe tomorrow, I'd like to stay for about two weeks or so… I just need to be around family right now," she sighs, "I'm going to drive from Boston, so, uh, I'll just meet you at your apartment?"

"Okay, what time do you expect to be here?"

"Uh, how does 3 PM sound?" she runs a hand nervously through her hair.

"All right," he sighs, "I'll prepare the guest bedroom."

"Great, thanks, see you tomorrow, dad. I'll call you when I stop in Hartford, okay?"

"See you then, Jordan," he says, "Love you."

"Love you, too, dad," she chokes out, hanging up slowly.

***

After Jordan's relatively uneventful appointment, she picks up the prenatal vitamins at CVS and heads home. Jordan quickly packs her largest navy blue duffle bag. When she has enough clothing to last her three weeks, Jordan goes to the nearby McDonald's and eats by herself. At home she passes out almost immediately in her tank top and sweatpants.

When Jordan wakes up at eight the next morning, nauseous, she takes her vitamins and eats Cheerios and orange juice. Then she showers, uses the toilet, and changes into jeans and a sky blue sweater. Once done, Jordan leaves the apartment with her bag, stopping by the morgue on the way.

"Where are you going?" Garrett frowns at the sight of her bag.

"I'm visiting my dad," Jordan nods coolly, "Might be gone for two or three weeks."

"Feel better, Jo," he sighs, "I'll tell Woody you left."

She nods, waves goodbye, and leaves. When Jordan is officially on the road, it is 11:23 AM. She is in Hartford at 1:56 PM, and stops at Burger King. Jordan eats silently and quickly, then she calls her dad and assures him she will see him within two hours or so, depending on the traffic from Hartford to Manhattan. Jordan leaves then and gets into her car, ready to go.

***

"Jordan!" her father exclaims, grinning ear to ear as he holds his daughter in a warm embrace. "It's sure been a while now, hasn't it? What was it now, three years?"

"Yeah," she nods and smiles, "Thanks for having me, dad."

"Gladly," he takes her coat.

Jordan goes into the tiny guestroom and the two of them unpack in an amiable silence. When she is fully unpacked, Jordan stretches out on the bed and sighs.

"Why did you come here?" he asks.

"We need to talk," she says, sitting up, "About a _lot_ of things, dad."

"There has to be some reason you came here."

"There is," she swallows, "I, uh, dad, I'm, uh, I'm kind of…"

He raises an eyebrow quizzically, and Jordan swallows her bile back and finishes, "Pregnant." She winces at the realization.

His eyes widen in shock and fear as he stammers, "How… how far along are you, Jordan?"

"About a month," she whispers.

"Who's the father?"

"Woody," she groans, sinking into the mattress.

"So he just… knocked you up and left you to die?"

"Pretty much," she nods, "It was a mistake, dad. I had a _boyfriend_ when we, uh, did it. I really screwed up this time. I really, _really_ screwed up. Ugh. I'm keeping this baby, though."

"I want to kill him," he mutters, sighing and turning to face her, a weary smile growing on his face.

"That makes two of us," she grins wickedly and he throws his head back and laughs loudly.

"How do you know the baby isn't your ex's?" he asks.

"We used protection every time, and, uh, well, Woody and I were snowed in at an inn, investigating a case… they only had, uh, one room, and since we didn't plan on getting snowed in, I, uh, didn't exactly have my birth control on me," Jordan shakes her head somberly, "He _promised_ he would take care of me, dad."

He nods and says simply, "Oh."

Jordan nods and takes an awkward breath before asking softly, "Are you mad at me, dad?"

"No," he looks puzzled, "Why would I be, Jordan?"

She smiles and says wistfully, "I don't know, dad. Thanks for letting me stay with you."

"I love you, Jordan," he smiles and hugs her, kissing her forehead.

"Love you, too, dad," she sighs, "God, I'm sorry about the last few years."

He chuckles darkly and without humor as he tells her, "I'm sorry, too, Jordan. I love you. Let's go eat."

Those words spoken, the pair leaves Max Cavanaugh's small apartment and head for the nearest pub for cheap food and warmth.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I've now added a lot of Sarah McLachlan to my writing playlist. I listen to my playlist while I write this stuff. It's on Youtube called Poetic Inspiration Songs. My Youtube account is HarvestMoonWish. Give it a listen sometime- you never know what you may come with. Came up with a freaky poem about Bigfoot once, actually, listening to it. It's full of angst and sadness and hope and love and several other emotions to help your creative juices flow freely. The mention of a pub… pubs out east include meals. Just clarifying that. In the west, pubs are saloons. Ah, good times. Good, good times. Some of the things in here are song lyrics from Sarah's Fallen, enchanting song. The lyrics are in the first two paragraphs. I'm saying Jordan's birthday is in April. _**

**Disclaimer: I own a deep love for Sarah McLachlan's music, but I still do not own Crossing Jordan.**

Jordan puts her iPod into her ears and hums along to the tune of Sarah McLachlan's Fallen.

_ "Heaven bend to take my hand, I've nowhere left to turn," _Jordan sings, _"I'm lost to those I thought were friends, to everyone I know."_

_"Though I've tried, I've fallen, I have sunk so low, I messed up, better I should know, so don't come around here and tell me 'I told you so'!" _tears stain Jordan's cheeks as she finishes the song and the iPod changes to Sarah McLachlan's World on Fire. She stares blankly out the window at the dreary New York City skyline and sighs wistfully.

She turns and sees her father sitting in front of the television watching MSNBC and smiles a little bit, chuckling slightly at how young she feels. In two months on April 3, Jordan will turn thirty-eight. In just eight months, Jordan will be a mother. The reality nauseates her. Jordan takes a deep breath, trying to keep her dinner down, but it's a futile effort, and pretty soon she is bent over the toilet in the bathroom, heaving up her meal. When Jordan is done, she curls into a ball and sobs.

"Jordan?" her father hollers, "It's Lily on the phone!"

Jordan stands weakly and grabs the phone from him. He raises an eyebrow but says nothing, watching his daughter slink back into her room, phone cradled to her ear for dear life. Jordan closes the door and lies back on her bed, and again she has the strangest revelation of being a teenager again. Shaking off the feeling, she sighs.

"Lily?" she murmurs sleepily.

"Garrett said you were visiting your father in New York," Lily's voice is questioning and extremely cautious.

"Yeah," Jordan nods, "I, uh, I needed to get away."

"Oh," Lily sighs, "How long will you be in New York?"

"Two or three weeks," Jordan mumbles, absently picking at the hem of her shirt.

"Okay, Jo. Would you mind if I came down and checked up on you in ten days?"

"No," Jordan says irritably, "You can come down."

"Thanks," Lily says cheerlessly, "I'll be down in ten or eleven days. I'll stay for three days or so and then I'll be on my way."

"Lily?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you want to visit?" Jordan asks quietly.

There is a pause and Lily finally answers, "I'm going to D.C. for five days, figured I might as well check up on you. See you then, Jordan."

"Lily?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," Jordan whispers, on the verge of tears yet again.

"You're welcome," Lily sighs, "Feel better. Good luck."

When Jordan hangs up, she puts her iPod on an infinite loop and somehow, Sarah McLachlan's voice brings her hope. Fallen blares in the tiny room, and Max hears it from his bedroom. Softer than the female angst is Jordan's quiet sobs, and Max wishes he could comfort her. In that room is his daughter, his only child, broken, mangled, and trampled on, and Max wants so badly to help her. These sounds would one day come to haunt him, but for now all Max heard were the sounds of female sorrows: Sarah McLachlan's sad, reserved melody, Jordan's sobs, his television turned down low. In his tiny realm of being, Max Cavanaugh cannot possibly fathom the grief and suffering that was being portrayed.

***

Jordan wakes up early and changes into a pair of navy blue sweatpants and a navy blue sweatshirt over her white polyester shirt. She laces up her sneakers and grabs a bottle of water and her wallet and heads downstairs. Jordan jogs three miles and stops at a Dunkin' Donuts, picking up breakfast for them before running the remaining distance home. She sets out the food and eats quietly, and she wakes Max up before she goes into the bathroom to shower. The warm water cascading gingerly down Jordan's tall frame feels soothing, and for once in the past month she does not feel the necessary urge to vomit. Perhaps all she needed was an escape from Boston, and now that she had it, she was healing. It certainly _was_ helpful not to have Garrett and Woody, the only two whom she really trusted, breathing down her neck, or Nigel's random theories- which were usually humorous –and Bug, well Bug had been moping a lot lately, since Lily was dating Jeffrey, and she did not want to deal with him when he was grieving his lost chance. Lily was overly happy, what with having a _boyfriend_ and all. Lu, well Lu was Lu, and quite frankly, Jordan did not know Lu, nor did she exactly want to. She seemed nice enough, sure, but that girl was attracted to Woody. As much as Jordan Cavanaugh hated to admit it, especially after all Woody had done to her and for her, she was _jealous_ of Lu Simmons. The girl was sweet, pretty, no-nonsense, and though Jordan did not know her well, she read the vibes. It was all there- Lu Simmons _wanted_ Woody Hoyt for herself, and Jordan would _not_ let that happen.

"Morning, Jordan," Jordan smiles at her father sitting at the table and she places her hands on his shoulders.

"Hey," she grins.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, nodding towards the bottle of vitamins on the counter.

"Fine," she sighs, "Been better, but I've been worse, too."

"Glad to hear it," he smiles, "Have you thought of any names yet?"

"No," she shakes her head, "I wish. I thought I'd use mom's name, though."

"Thanks," he nods, "She would have liked that."

"I know," a slow, sad smile creeps up on Jordan's face.

Jordan pours herself a glass of orange juice and quickly downs her pills, wincing slightly. Then she heads into her bedroom and changes out of her robe into a pair of jeans and a lavender v-neck sweater. Jordan brushes her long hair out and pulls it back into a loose, sloppy bun at the nape of her neck. She applies a little lip gloss and blush and puts on her socks and black boots.

"Jordan?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"You want a job?"

"Sure," she nods, "That would be a good idea."

"You can work at the bar," he sighs, "I'll clear it with Mickey."

"Thanks."

"No problem," he chuckles darkly.

Her father had opened a tavern with one of his old college buddies, Mickey Klein, when he had moved out to New York. It was a hole-in-the-wall place that Jordan did not know the name of. When the two arrive, Jordan is set to deal drinks. A young man in his twenties comes up to order.

"Hey," he bats his eyelashes at her flirtatiously.

"Hello," she nods coolly, "What can I get you?"

"Two beers."

"Two?" she raises an eyebrow quizzically.

"One for me, one for you," the man all but singsongs.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, "I can't drink."

"Why not?" he asks teasingly.

"Look, kid," she huffs, exasperated, "What the _hell_ do you want from me?"

"One…"

"If you finish that sentence I hope you enjoy spending one night in a body bag," she snaps.

"Feisty, are we?" he waggles his eyebrow.

"Jordan!" Jordan is relieved to see her father.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Your dad _owns_ this place?"

"Co-owns," Jordan growls, thrusting his drink at him and heading to her father.

"You're on dish duty," he sighs, "I'm not letting these bastards upset you. You're bad enough as it is, I can only _imagine _the lawsuits when you're pregnant and hormonal."

Jordan smiles and chuckles quietly, "Well, thanks, dad."

"You're welcome," he sighs, eyes fluttering shut, "I think."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I've had the week off, I'm bored out of my fucking mind, I have my period, my mom won't get her ass out of bed, my dad is cursing at me, and my brother is being a brat. One chapter full of angst, coming right up. Did I also mention that my dad tried to have me arrested for PMS for the SECOND time? IT DOESN'T WORK, DAD! PMS IS SO NOT A CRIME! Since this is AU, Jordan finds out about Woody and Lu in my opinion this way.**

**Disclaimer: I own a deep hatred for my family, but I don't own Crossing Jordan.**

Jordan had been in Manhattan for ten days now, and Lily was supposed to arrive at any given moment. She had cleaned the entire apartment and readied her tiny bedroom by adding an air mattress to it. Jordan lies on her bed in a pair of holey grey sweats and one of Woody's old hockey jerseys she "borrowed" a few years ago. Someone is trying to be buzzed in, so Jordan gets up and heads to the box.

"Yeah?"

"Jo!" Lily squeals.

Jordan lets her in and then pulls her dark curls up into a messy ponytail. Three minutes later, Lily is at the door. When Jordan allows her in, Lily hugs her right away.

"Hey, Lily," Jordan grins nervously.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, following Jordan into the guest room.

"Fine," Jordan nods, "Sorry, an air mattress was the best I could get."

"It's alright," Lily giggles, "I'm excited. I feel like a thirteen year old again, don't you?"

"Yeah," Jordan chuckles and nods, "I actually do."

Jordan helps Lily unpack, and then the pair head out for an early dinner at a nearby café. Lily pays and the two chat amiably.

"So," Lily sighs, "Woody has… he's been seeing Lu."

Jordan chokes on the water she was drinking and looks at Lily and mumbles, "No. No, no way is he…"

"I'm sorry, Jo," she sighs, "It'll be alright, he's not really worth it."

"I need some air," Jordan gasps, running out of the restaurant. She reaches a trashcan and vomits, and then Jordan runs. She runs until there is a dull ache in her legs, and finally she collapses on a bench and sobs.

Lily catches up with her and sits beside her, awkwardly wrapping an arm about her friend's shoulders.

"I'm going home," Jordan drones, standing and drifting home with her head bent low. Lily follows her at a distance.

At home, Jordan takes a bucket of Moose Tracks ice cream and her iPod into her bedroom. That was four hours ago, and Lily has yet to successfully persuade her to open the damn door. When Jordan finally does, she is staring out the window blankly, unseeing with hot tears trickling down her dirty cheeks. Hailstones tap the glass bitterly and Jordan feels the metaphor in her heart. She was trapped and being pelted. Lily goes over and sits on her bed, not speaking, just observing Jordan silently. When Jordan finally acknowledges her presence, her eyes are red and swollen and her cheeks are puffy and stained.

"I love him," she whispers before breaking down and sobbing again.

"I know," Lily murmurs, hugging her friend gingerly, "Believe me, I know."

***

"Hey, have you seen Jordan?" Woody anxiously asks Garrett, who peers up at him from his desk.

"Yeah, I did," he mumbles nonchalantly, eyes back on the paperwork.

"Well, where is she?" he demands.

Sighing Garrett tells him, "She is visiting her father for about a month or so in Manhattan."

"Oh," Woody nods, disappointed, "When will she be back?"

"It's not fair to her, Woody," Garrett exhales subtly.

"What's not fair?"

"The fact that you just knock her up and all but accuse her of being a slut," Garrett lists in a monotone, "The fact that you dated a girl who was _barely_ legal, and the fact that you are now involved with Lu. I'm not saying you have to leave Lu, I'm merely saying, it's not fair for you to _pretend_ to give a shit about Jordan and then abandon her. She's hanging by a very, very loose thread here, Woody. You don't need to make this worse for her by being all nice and sweet and then hostile and agitated."

Woody stares at Garrett, who is apparently done ranting. Woody nods and hesitates.

"Close the door on your way out," Garrett says coldly, not bothering to look up from the report on his desk.

Woody does just that, and Garrett's words buzz in his ears like an angry swarm of hornets or bees as he heads towards the elevators.

The reason Garrett's words stuck was that they hit very close to home; Garrett always had an uncanny knack when it came to Jordan and Woody.

***

Jordan wakes up with her head on Lily's shoulder. She sits groggily and blinks. The clock reads 3:52 AM and she is uncomfortable. After Jordan uses the bathroom, she takes a long, hot shower, the sting of the water bringing her solace. When she is clean, she goes into her room and changes quietly into a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Then she settles in beside Lily, yawns tiredly, and slowly squeezes her eyes shut, her thoughts on Woody and the tiny being growing within her as she drifts peacefully into slumber.

***

Jordan is dreaming.

_"Jordan," he whispers, stroking her face._

_ She smiles contentedly at him, reaches for his hand, but her hand flails, and does not capture his._

_ "I'm sorry…" he mumbles, fading into the black abyss._

_ "Woody! Woody, I love you!" Jordan screams, tears running down her face._

_ Jordan feels a peculiarly warm wetness on her hands and gazes downwards, utterly afraid. On her pale-as-the-moon skin is dripping blood, crimson and dirty, and she instantly knows it is Woody's. She continues down the alleyway and finds his lifeless body in a sea of opaque maroon._

_ "Woody!" she screeches again, and her dream shifts once more._

_ She lies beside him in a coffin._

_ "Are we dead?" she asks._

_ "No," he whispers, "But we will be soon."_

_ He plunges a knife into her heart. She gasps and her body shudders in agony as he twirls the dagger rhythmically in her chest._

_ "Now you'll be mine… forever…" he murmurs pleasantly, the way you would murmur to someone shortly after making love to them._

_ Woody holds Jordan until her body is still and limp, and his words echo in her ears, "Forever, Jo… forever…"_

Jordan gasps and sits up, sweating profusely and bawling.

"Jo?" Lily says sleepily.

Lily wraps her arms around her friend and mumbles, "There, there, Jo. It's not real; it's just a dream… just a dream, Jo, just a dream."

Lily's heart aches for Jordan as the normally tough woman shatters in her arms. Finally, Lily realizes that Jordan has veiled herself, created an illusion to protect herself; she was not as tough as she seemed, and it made Lily feel unbalanced, dizzy, and nervous. As Lily held Jordan, comforted her, and caught her tears on her small, pale body, Lily sees just what Woody Hoyt was capable of. Jordan _needed_ someone, no, she needed _him_, and in that desperate time of need, he had utterly abandoned her on the side of the dirt road in the middle of nowhere. Lily Lebowski was now extremely determined to help glue Jordan back together, and, most importantly, make Woody Hoyt pay for this. He would regret this, regret building Jordan and stomping on her. Lily was _very_ protective when it came to her friends, after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I feel like shit. I have been craving Kool-Aid, coffee, and sausage. Your period gives you the weirdest needs; I don't drink Kool-Aid, I drink coffee once a month because I don't want to become addicted, and I'm a vegetarian, ever since I read Upton Sinclair's ****The Jungle****. So this is almost as weird as the phase last year where all I ate was grape soda, peas, corn, and macaroni and cheese. Oh, and the phase where all I ate for lunch was McDonald's for two weeks, but we were taking a road trip so, there wasn't too much to eat besides that. Okay, enough about my random cravings, and on with the show!**

**Disclaimer: I own very weird cravings but not Crossing Jordan. If I did, would I **_**really**_** be writing this? Probably not, or at the very least, this would be on TV, not the Internet.**

"Goodnight, Jeffrey," Lily makes a kissing sound into the phone and hangs up, smiling. Jordan tries to look unaffected by staring blankly out the window, but Lily reads her expression and frowns.

"It's alright," Jordan nods, turning and trying to smile, "I'm happy for you, Lily. I still don't think he's your type, but you're obviously happy, and that's what really matters."

"Who do you think is right for me?" she asks.

"Bug," Jordan sighs, closing her eyes, "Let me explain."

"Okay," Lily nods.

"He's always been there for you," Jordan starts, "Always, through the good and the bad. He's seen you at your best and at your very worst. He's smitten with you and he knows you don't feel the same way so he loves you in the most platonic way possible. Bug doesn't pressure you, and he tries very hard to be happy for you, because he loves you and knows that you won't return the gesture. He's your best friend, Lily, and he is always ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or help you out in any way. He's absolutely in love with you, Lily, and he's okay with just loving you as a friend, knowing that wanting more won't help. You've known him for four years now and I doubt he'll ever change his ways, but you know what? He's fine, perfectly fine, just as long as you're satisfied with your life."

"Wow," Lily says, "I didn't, uh, didn't know you paid so much attention."

"Yeah, well," Jordan snorts delicately, "He's my friend, too, Lily. I tend to notice a lot, actually. He's glad that you have someone, Lily. Sure, he's hurting, but he's happy for you in his one special way."

"Woody loves you, Jordan," Lily sighs, "He's in a messed up place right now. He loves Lu, but differently. He couldn't ever love anyone the way he loves you. Believe it or not, Jo, but I think that Lu loves you, too, and she knows she can't have you. They comfort each other, Jo."

"I thought Lu was straight?"

"Bisexual," Lily clarifies, "She is in love with you, Jordan. Neither one can win your heart, thus they are attracted to one another."

"Wow," Jordan sighs, "I'm in a pretty damn bad place here, too, Lil."

Jordan gestures to her still-flat tummy, and she flutters her eyes closed, murmuring, "I've thought about names, actually."

"Oh? What?"

"If it's a girl," Jordan says cautiously, "I'm going to name her Devin Amanda, Aimee for short, and if it's a boy, Maxwell Roger, Max for short."

"Pretty," Lily approves.

"I can't believe," Jordan whispers, tears staining her cheeks, "I know I was jealous of Devan, I'll admit it- she did, after all, win Woody over. I just was such a jerk to her, Lily! The last thing I said to her was 'What makes you think we're friends?'"

"You didn't know," Lily murmurs soothingly.

"No, I didn't," Jordan sniffles, "But I'll have it hang over my head forever. Her mother said she _worshipped _me, Lily, that all she talked about was _me_, and I still can't believe I was such an insensitive, superficial bitch to Devan. I was selfish."

"It's okay, Jordan," she sighs, "I bet Devan looks down at you from Heaven and sees your guilt and pain about her death, and I bet she forgives you. In fact, I _know_ she does."

Jordan grunts and stretches out on the bed and stares at the ceiling.

"I didn't really know Elaine well," she mumbles, "I'm still haunted by her death. Garrett offered me some of those brownies, you know. I could have… I could have died, too, if I had accepted them. I did not really like Elaine but, well she's with her son now. I bet she's happy, Lily, I bet she's happy where she is."

"Fate is strange, Jordan," Lily sighs, resting beside her friend comfortably, "Fate is so, so strange and unpredictable sometimes, Jo. Everything happens for a reason."

Jordan snorts and Lily looks at her questioningly so she sighs and explains, "That's what J.D. said, when he left me. ' Everything happens for a reason'."

"Oh," Lily nods, "Sorry."

Jordan smiles and asks, "For what?"

"Dredging up memories."

"No," Jordan sighs, rolling onto her back, "No, no it's fine, really, Lily."

They talk amiably for a little more time, and then Jordan pulls on one of Woody's old shirts she had borrowed and a pair of sweatpants. She lies down on the bed, rolling to face Lily, who is wearing Jordan's Happy Bunny PJ's. Jordan smiles and Lily smiles back, and Lily rests one hand on Jordan's tummy. Jordan lets one hand lay upon Lily's cheek and yawns, closing her eyes. She snores softly, and Lily stays on the bed, running her hands through Jordan's curly dark hair, content with watching her sleep. After a little while, though, Lily is extremely tired and falls asleep in Jordan's arms.

***

When Jordan wakes up, she is in Lily's embrace. She turns on her back and smiles, happy. Lily buries her head in Jordan's stomach gently and mumbles something incoherent in her sleep, and Jordan chuckles softly, watching Lily slumber. Jordan runs a hand through the younger woman's red tresses and notes the softness and femininity of her friend.

"Hey," Jordan yawns, and Lily stirs.

"Sorry," she mumbles, sitting up and rubbing her eyes groggily.

Jordan smiles and says, "Ah, it's fine, Lily. I don't mind."

Lily smiles back and asks, "So, what do you want to do today?"

"Besides sit around and eat?" Jordan groans before sighing and adding, "That's the _one_ thing I don't think I'll get used to easily."

"What are you craving?"

Jordan frowns and wrinkles her nose in dismay as she answers, "Cherry Kool-Aid and… uh, lamb sausage?"

Lily stares for a moment and throws her head back and laughs, and soon Jordan laughs, too.

"We'll make a trip to Stop and Shop," Lily promises.

"Okay," Jordan grins impishly.

Jordan grunts and stretches her taut muscles, and then she changes quickly and quietly into a pair of jeans and a black scoop-neck sweater. She sighs and folds her arms gingerly across her breasts, which have grown subtly in the past eleven days since she had found out she was expecting. Today she would see an OB/GYN at a free clinic for a check-up, and Lily was giddy since they would tell Jordan her due date this time. Lily dresses in a grey cashmere sweater dress that reaches her knees, tights, and a denim jacket. She pulls her red hair back in a low, long braid down her back. They silently eat their breakfast and then head to the clinic, which is in Brooklyn. When they are called in, Jordan sits nervously on the table and waits.

"Alright, Ms. Cavanaugh," the young blonde doctor says.

"Jordan," she nods, smiling, "You can call me Jordan."

"Alright, then Jordan, nice to meet you, I'm Dr. Ida Eastman," she nods, scribbling something before peering at Lily, "And who may you be?"

"I'm Lily," she smiles, "I'm Jordan's friend, here for moral support."

"Nice to meet you as well," Ida smiles wanly and turns sharply back at Jordan. "Now, when was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?"

"Uh…" Jordan sucks in a sharp breath and counts before looking back at Dr. Eastman and replying, "That would _have_ to be January 12."

"Alright," she nods, "Good, good. Now, do you know when you conceived?"

"Yes," Jordan nods and grimaces, "January 26; hell, I even remember the _time_."

"Very good," Ida chuckles, writing, "So I'm guessing you are about six weeks along? Making your last period eight weeks ago, of course..."

"That sounds right," Jordan nods agreeably, "I'm actually, uh, I'm a medical examiner in Boston."

"Oh?" Ida shoots her a quizzical look, "What are you doing here in Manhattan, if you don't mind answering?"

"Oh, no of course not," Jordan smiles, "I'm visiting my dad."

Ida nods, "Sounds pleasant."

"It is," Jordan sighs, "Lily decided to come down for a few days to visit me, actually."

"Great," Ida nods, "Now, it seems you will be due on or around October 19, though of course, only five percent of all babies are born on their due dates. You are likely to give birth within twenty-eight days of that day, so basically anywhere between October 4 and November 2."

"Great," Lily squeals, "I'm so happy!"

Jordan laughs and the two hug and cry and Ida smiles, shakes her head, and chuckles, saying, "Come visit soon, dear." Then Ida waltzes out of the room, feeling oddly euphoric from the two giddy girls who acted more like teenagers than adults. Ida goes back to her office and makes a file for Jordan Cavanaugh and secretly she hopes to see her again. In fact, Ida hopes to see both Jordan _and_ Lily again very, very soon, which is highly unusual, since Ida is usually irked easily by her patients. These two radiated innocence and utter joy, for lack of a better word, though it seemed as if Jordan was going to be a single mother. Ida felt almost hopeful, corny as it seemed, after their visit, and did not even mind the whiny seventeen year old she got stuck with next. No, Ida Eastman did not mind her at _all_.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I have school now. **** The show must go on!**

**Disclaimer: I own a dread for the future, but I still don't own Crossing Jordan. DAMMIT.**

Since it snowed all day on March 6, Lily was unable to drive to D.C. and would spend the day with Jordan and Max instead. She was grumbling about it now, and Jordan stared out the window, remembering the e-coli breakout during the last snowstorm she had been in.

"I got you girls some soup," Max announces, entering Jordan's room. Lily smiles, thanks him, and takes the cartons, handing one to Jordan, who eats without a word. Finally, she sighs.

"Crappy weather," she mutters, leaning her head against the window dejectedly. Lily goes over and rubs her back gently, knowing how depressed her friend was today.

"Cheer up," Lily says.

"How can I?" Jordan moans.

Lily smiles and slings her arm about Jordan's shoulders, sighs, and tells her, "We can play Monopoly and Clue all day."

"I feel like a teenager," Jordan grumbles, and Lily chuckles.

They finish their food and Jordan takes it into the kitchen, humming below her breath. Then they sit on the sofa and decide to watch The Price is Right, which is really the only thing on. At around three, Lily calls Jeffrey and Jordan showers and naps while Lily talks with him for two hours. They have a dinner of sushi and apple juice, and then they head into Jordan's room. She changes quietly into a light pink nightgown that had once been her mother's and crawls into bed, curling up into a loose fetal position, which Jordan finds amusing and ironic. Lily lies on the bed beside Jordan; she had not really slept on the bed they had set up for her, and Jordan did not really mind. She turns and smiles at Lily, who smiles wanly back.

"Goodnight, Jo," she yawns.

"Goodnight, Lily," she turns onto her other side and closes her eyes tightly.

***

When Jordan wakes up the next morning, she is severely nauseous and sprints into the bathroom half-awake. When her stomach is emptied, she waits a few minutes and brushes her teeth quietly, heading into the main room and starting the stove. About ten minutes later, Jordan is sitting on the counter eating a bowl of burning hot sludge that people call oatmeal. Jordan never liked it much, but for some odd reason she can't get enough of the nuclear waste. She chalked it up as pregnancy hormones and sighed wistfully, a hand resting casually over the flat expanse of her stomach. She could not fathom the baby residing within her, and every time she pictured him or her, Jordan's throat swelled shut with emotion, so Jordan did not think of the tiny being. It was amazing, the little life growing inside of her body, hidden and lovely, safe and warm. It was half her, crazy and wonderful, and it was half Woody, adorable and sweet and slightly naïve. For some reason, the thought that she was pregnant with _his _child made her heart flutter in anticipation. If anyone had told Jordan Cavanaugh when she had met Woody Hoyt for the very first time that five years later, she would be pregnant with his baby, she would not have believed them. She thought again of what J.D. had said, that everything happened for a reason. Jordan knew this was the truth, and it left her amused and befuddled. This baby had a reason, a purpose, and Jordan intended to find out what exactly that was.

"Jo?" Jordan snaps back to reality and looks at Lily, who is standing warily at the sink.

"I was hungry," she explains, and Lily just nods, smiling.

"I can see that."

Jordan smiles and chuckles, sighing before mumbling, "Yeah, well, that's life for you, Lily."

Lily nods and watches as Jordan cleans her bowl. Once done, she heads into her bedroom and changes quietly into jeans and a grey sweater. Lily comes in and changes, too, and the girls head to Lily's car. They will go for a jog in Central Park before Lily leaves. As they run, they chat amiably. When their jog is over, they eat lunch at a nearby Burger King and go back to her car. Lily hugs Jordan good-bye and watches her best friend as she hails a taxi. Lily could not help but worry, though she knew Jordan was safe.

***

Jordan's day is slow and uneventful. She has decided that now that she has been here for almost two weeks, she can leave. She tells her dad, who makes her promise to call him each week. Jordan promises him. She will be leaving tomorrow afternoon. Jordan packs in silence in her room, and once done, she falls asleep almost immediately.

When Jordan wakes up three hours later, at nine in the morning, she is exhausted. Groaning, she gets up, changes into a grey pullover and jeans, then eats, and brushes her teeth. She pulls her dark curls up into a sloppy bun at the nape of her neck, rebellious tendrils falling around her porcelain face. Then she hauls her luggage to her car, and her father comes with her, hugging her tightly.

"Be careful, Jo," he murmurs into her ear, "Send me some pictures soon."

He pulls away, smiling sadly as he tucks a few stray tresses behind her ears. She pulls him into another tight hug and whispers into his shoulder, "I will, dad. I promise."

Max watches his daughter step into her car and drive off. He watches for about ten minutes, sighs, and heads gloomily up to his apartment.

***

It is seven in the evening when Jordan arrives in Boston, and once she has unpacked, showered, and changed into a pair of slacks and a black sweater, she heads to the Beef 'N' Brew. Jordan eats silently in her usual table, and when she is done, she heads to the morgue, although it is now nearly eleven at night.

"Hey," she smiles nervously, entering Garrett's office.

"Hello," he looks up, surprised, "I thought you were staying longer."

"So did I," she sighs, "I needed to get back."

"Okay," he nods, "No chemicals, no x-rays, no testing. You are only to do autopsies and trace, and you _must_ wear extra precautionary equipment. Are we clear?"

"Yes," Jordan nods seriously.

"Get to work, then," he smiles, and she smiles back as she stands.

Nigel finds her in her office about forty minutes later.

"Woody needs an M.E.," he tells her.

"Oh?" she looks up from the paperwork she had been doing, "Well, uh, where's Bug?"

"He's doing an autopsy," Nigel says.

"Garrett?"

"He's already on a call," Nigel sighs, "_House_ call."

"Huh?"

"I suppose you didn't hear, love," he comes in, "Renee's son, Ian?"

"Yes?"

"He's Garrett's kid," Nigel tells her, watching her mouth form a small 'O'.

"Since when?"

"Since she told him last Tuesday," Nigel informs, "She had told Eddie, he was pretty upset. You should have seen Garrett, though, love, it was priceless. She just waltzed in here, asked him to spend some time with Ian, and when he asked why…"

"She told him," Jordan finishes, grinning, "Well, I always _did_ think he resembled Garrett in some way. I'm just glad to hear that they're on good terms."

"Me, too," Nigel says, "So?"

"So?" Jordan raises an eyebrow quizzically.

"So, are you going to the scene?"

"Oh, yeah," Jordan nods, smiling, "Uh, sure, where is it?"

"Power plant downtown," he grimaces, "Poor bloke blew himself up."

"I can't," she says.

"Why not?"

"Garrett says I can't be anywhere near nuclear crap," she rolls her eyes.

"Why? Since when do you listen to Garrett?"

"Since," she takes a deep breath, "Since I became pregnant."

"Oh," Nigel's eyes widen in shock, "Uh, how far…?"

"Almost two months," she smiles sadly.

She watches Nigel count silently in his head, his eyes widening with realization as he says, "It's… who's the father?"

"Woody," she whispers, tears in her eyes, and he just nods.

"Littleton Village," he states.

"Yeah," she nods, clarifying what he had suspected.

"I'll get Sidney to take it."

"Thanks," she nods, smiling.

"No problem, love," he grins, "I'm happy for you."

When he leaves, she sighs heavily and picks up the small snow globe from her desk, smiling wistfully as she watches the little flakes cascade gently around the small town. Littleton Village; the snow globe had been one of Woody's, but he had given it to her for… _sentimental_ reasons, about two days after their return. She traces the outline of the small building inside, her thoughts once more traveling to that night. Her heart aches and swells at the sight.

After about five minutes of staring, Jordan places the snow globe onto the desk and stands. She shrugs into her woolen coat and gloves, placing her mother's sunglasses on her eyes. Jordan then proceeds to turn off the light, shut the door, and walk out of the morgue, exhausted. Once home, she barely has time to change into her duck pajamas before passing out on top of the sheets of her bed. For the sixth time that week, Jordan dreams of Woody.

She does not want to stop dreaming.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am trying to write. I would like to thank the following: Sarah McLachlan, Evanescence, P!nk, Nickelback, and Queen, for their music has helped me write. I would also like to thank my muse, who is generally very good. Thank-you to Crossing Jordan Encyclopedia for helping me with character information. **

**Disclaimer: I still own squat. Damn. **

The first few weeks back are slow for Jordan. She studiously avoids both Woody _and_ Lu, which is quite a feat. She had tried to get as many cases as possible with Lois, Matt, and Roz instead, trading her cases with Woody and Lu for cases with them. She did not want, nor need, the pity of Woody and Lu, who seemed just fine where they were.

It was now May 21, and Jordan was just beginning to show. Her tummy had swelled slightly in the past eleven weeks or so since she had found out she was expecting. She looks down for perhaps the seventh time that day, seeing the way her swollen torso peeked out shyly. Jordan sighs and goes back to the autopsy she was performing.

The scalpel drops from her hand, and she darts out of the way, a hand on her belly in shock.

"Oh!" she squeaks, and Nigel turns, watching her curiously.

"What is it, love?" he asks, concerned, "Are you feeling alright?"

"Better than alright," she breathes, "The baby… I think it's moving."

He smiles and she smiles back, hand on her outstretched womb, wanting to feel more tentative flutters. As if by magic, the tiny being moves a little more, and it brings tears to Jordan's eyes. She cradles her stomach, one hand above and one below, trying desperately to feel the baby move. Another swift, feeble, almost butterfly-like movement stirs inside of her, and her smile grows.

"Hey, there," she murmurs softly, "Hey, baby. It's mommy."

"Can I feel the kid?" Nigel asks, and Jordan looks up at him and nods.

"Sure," she grins, and he bends down slightly, his hands pressed gently into her abdomen. The baby stirs, and he looks up at her and grins.

"I felt it," he smiles.

"I have an ultrasound tomorrow," she smiles, "I may be able to tell the gender of the baby."

"May I come?" he asks eagerly.

She chuckles but says, "Sure, I'd be glad to have you there for moral support."

"Great," he smiles, a spring in his step as he leaves.

Jordan picks up the tool and finishes the autopsy in silence.

***

They are sitting in the waiting room the next day, and Jordan feels more bloated than ever.

"Jordan Cavanaugh?" the receptionist calls, and Nigel helps her to her feet. He walks slowly behind her, watching as she awkwardly waddles down the hall and into the examining room. Nigel waits outside until she tells him it is okay to come in. She sits on the table in a hospital gown, legs swinging. He goes over and holds her hand, smiling. Jordan smiles back.

"I wish Lily were here," she sighs, "She had a date with Jeffrey, unfortunately."

"It's alright, love," he grins, "I don't mind."

"Thanks," she yawns.

"No problem," he grins.

The nurse comes in and takes her blood pressure, and five minutes later, Dr. Nash appears. She bombards Jordan with questions, until she notices Nigel's presence.

"Is he the father?" she asks curiously.

"No," they answer simultaneously, causing Dr. Nash to quizzically raise an eyebrow.

"He's my best friend," Jordan explains, then adds, "My best _male_ friend."

"Oh," she nods, still unconvinced, "Well, it's time to do the ultrasound."

In the ultrasound room, the technician spurts gel onto Jordan's stomach.

"This is really happening, isn't it?" she sighs, and Nigel squeezes her hand.

"Thanks, Nige."

"Anything for you," he grins, and she grins wearily back.

"Alright," Dr. Nash comes over and takes over.

She runs the machine over Jordan's tummy, and asks, "Would you like to know the sex?"

"Yes," Jordan nods, "I would."

"Well," she smiles, "Your baby is in a _very_ good position for that today, Jordan. So, let us see here…"

She runs the machine over where the baby's privates are, and says, "Congratulations… it's a girl."

Jordan smiles happily, eyes welling up with tears, "Aimee."

"Excuse me?"

"Devin Amanda," she corrects, "That's her name. I'm going to call her Aimee, though."

"Pretty," Dr. Nash comments dryly, nodding.

She hands Jordan a paper towel, and as Jordan is wiping off the goo, she tells her, "Everything looks normal and healthy, Jordan. I want to see you once a week for a check-up and once every other week for an ultrasound."

"Okay," Jordan nods, "Sounds good."

"We _should_ do amniocentesis; you are thirty-seven years old," she sighs.

"I don't want to risk it," she mumbles, "Sorry."

"Okay," Dr. Nash nods, "Then you will have to be _extremely_ careful."

"I will," Jordan promises, swinging her legs off the table.

"See you later, Jo," Dr. Nash smiles wistfully at her old best friend.

"See you soon, Jas," she grins, waddling out.

***

On Wednesday, May 24, Jordan is resting on her couch. Her belly has doubled in size from Sunday, if that was even possible, and she is wearing a pair of maternity jeans and a black t-shirt that showed part of her bare stomach.

"Jordan, you got a minute?" Lily asks.

"Yeah," she sits up, patting the spot beside her.

"Could we go somewhere else?" she asks, out of breath, "Like… how does that little Greek café down the street sound?"

"Perfect," Jordan grins, "I'll meet you at your car."

"Thanks," Lily smiles.

"You're welcome," she sighs, watching Lily leave.

Jordan stands and walks out the door. As she rounds the corner past Autopsy One, Lu runs into her.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, staring at Jordan's face.

"No, uh," she gulps, "I'm okay."

She hears Lu's quiet gasp as Jordan bends and picks up the autopsy report she had planned to deliver to Matt after lunch.

"What is it?" she asks, wanting Lu to say it.

"You're pregnant," she nods towards Jordan's obvious baby bump.

"Well, what do you know," Jordan rolls her eyes and smiles, "That I am, Lu."

"How far…?"

"Eighteen weeks tomorrow," she sighs.

"Oh," she nods, "So, uh, it's J.D.'s, then."

Jordan shakes her head.

"Whose baby is… oh," Lu sucks in a sharp breath, "Woody didn't tell me…"

"Yeah well," Jordan's smile is mangled, "He's not exactly very supportive."

"Well," Lu exhales, "Well, if you, uh, need any help…"

"Would you mind helping me set up Aimee's crib this weekend?"

"Aimee?" Lu asks, raising an eyebrow.

"My daughter," she smiles.

"Oh," Lu nods awkwardly, "Right. Sure, I'll help."

"Great, thanks," Jordan hugs her, "Lily will be there, too. Saturday, three in the afternoon, my apartment, be there or be square."

"Look forward to it," Lu promises, "See you around."

Jordan waits for her to leave before she continues determinedly to the elevators. She is four minutes late at Lily's car.

"Lu and I talked," she explains.

"Oh," Lily frowns, "How did that go?"

"Better than I expected," she sighs, "She's helping us with Aimee's crib Saturday."

"Why?" Lily exclaims.

"We can't do it alone."

Lily nods, frowning, and the pair drives in silence to the little café.

"So… what did you want to talk about?" Jordan asks over their meal of stuffed grape leaves and olives.

Lily takes a deep breath, smiles shyly, and tells Jordan, "Jeffrey proposed."

Jordan slowly lets go of her fork, eyes widening in shock, and whispers, "What?"

"Last week," Lily sighs.

"I'm happy for you," she smiles.

"Thanks," Lily mumbles, staring vacantly into space.

"Gladly," Jordan nods, "So, uh… you got a date yet?"

"Yes, we do," Lily answers cheerfully, "November 27. I want you to be my maid of honor, Jordan."

"Will do," she murmurs, exhausted, "Will do, indeed."

The rest of their lunch is comfortable and not in the least bit silent; however, they avoid such thorny subjects as their love lives and instead focus mainly on Aimee Cavanaugh.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I am exhausted and I have detention on Monday. The song is "Aimee" and I wrote it myself.**

**Disclaimer: Still own nada.**

Saturday the 27th comes far too fast for Jordan. Lily is there at two with bags full of ingredients necessary for peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches, Jordan's latest craving, and strawberry kiwi Kool-Aid. They shift the furniture in Jordan's spare room and are beginning the crib when Lu knocks; while Lily continues fumbling with the crib, Jordan waddles to the large red door. She opens it and sees Lu.

"Hey," she says shyly, "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Jordan admits her, taking her sweatshirt.

"Nice place," Lu comments nonchalantly, nodding.

"Thanks," Jordan smiles, and Lu smiles back wanly.

"I, uh, brought some Pop-Tarts," Lu grins, holding up a plastic baggie, "Nigel told me you liked the blueberry kind?"

"Thanks," Jordan snatches the bag and puts the box of pastries into her cupboard. Then she guides Lu into the spare room. When they are done with the crib, they work on the changing table, and finally the rocking chair and dresser. They spread out the pink sheets and when the room is complete, they tackle the cradle for Jordan's bedroom, beside her bed, in case Aimee needs comfort during the night.

At around seven, the girls make PB&J sandwiches and Kool-Aid, eating silently in her apartment. Jordan sits on the counter and Lily and Lu sit side-by-side on the couch. When they are done, they have a dessert of Pop-Tarts, and Jordan makes a quick trip to her neighbor in 3F, Tamara Raines; Tammy provides her with two bottles of beer for Lily and Lu. Jordan passes them it and pours herself a glass of ginger ale instead. Jordan pulls a long swig, lounging on the countertop.

Lu leaves at nine, wanting to meet Woody for a quick drink, and Lily stays. The two clean up their mess, and then Jordan sighs and announces, "I'm going to shower."

Lily nods and says, "I'll go make sure we did not forget anything."

Jordan starts peeling her clothing off as she gets into her bedroom. When she is in the bathroom in front of her mirror, she smiles tiredly and caresses her tummy.

"Aimee," she whispers, "So beautiful, Aimee… Aimee…"

She steps into the shower and is done in twenty minutes. Jordan dresses quietly in a large grey BPD issued t-shirt and ankle socks. She finds Lily on her couch, and she stands, hugs Jordan, and bounces out the door. Jordan steps into the nursery and sits in the rocking chair that had once been her mother's.

Jordan gets very little sleep. When she is up at four in the morning, she begins to write a song and come up with a tune on her guitar.

***

She is in her office with her guitar, humming silently. It is then that Garrett calls her to autopsy a body, and so she leaves.

Woody enters Jordan's office, needing to apologize. However, she is gone, and upon her guitar lays a sheet of paper. Curious, he picks it up and reads it over.

_**Millions of faces**_

_**Millions of places**_

_**All lost in a crowd**_

_**Yet you stand out**_

_**You remain**_

_**Unique**_

_**You are my life**_

_**My dream**_

_**My goal**_

_**My everything**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**May your hopes come true**_

_**I will battle the demons in the dark**_

_**I will lend you a hand**_

_**Give you a shoulder to cry on**_

_**I yearn for you**_

_**Aimee**_

_**You are my life**_

_**My dream**_

_**My goal**_

_**My everything**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**May you never feel afraid**_

_**May you always be blessed**_

_**May you know kindness**_

_**May you know defeat**_

_**May you know modesty**_

_**May you know I love you**_

_**You are my life**_

_**My dream**_

_**My goal**_

_**My everything**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**I love you**_

_**I will wipe away the tears you shed**_

_**I will fight away your fears**_

_**I will jump in front of a bus**_

_**When you say 'jump' I will respond 'how high?'**_

_**Aimee**_

_**I love you**_

_**You are my life**_

_**My dream**_

_**My goal**_

_**My everything**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

_**Aimee**_

He feels he is violating her somehow by reading this, and puts it down, creeping out of her office undetected, tears forming in his eyes. He did not realize _just_ how much Jordan had loved that baby. _Aimee_, a small voice reminds him, _her name is Aimee._ Lu had told him that he would have a daughter soon. Aimee… _his_ Aimee, _her_ Aimee; _their _Aimee.

***

Jordan's office has been broken into.

She sees the song she had been writing, and knows instantly who had taken it.

Woody.

She sighs and looks at it.

"Hey," she sees him twiddling his thumbs nervously in the doorway.

"Hello," she responds coldly, glaring daggers at him.

"Jordan… I'm sorry," he whispers, walking over to her.

"Sorry!" she shrieks, standing and gesturing to her expanding belly, "Sorry does not even _begin_ to cut it, dumbass! You get me pregnant, promise to support me, accuse me of having someone else's baby, date some chick that is barely legal, _and_ go and fuck around with Lu! You're _sorry_? You're not the one who is becoming a beached whale! You're not the one who people stare at and tiptoe around! So do _not_ come in here saying you're sorry!"

"Jo…" he walks over and tries to hug her because he sees she is crying.

"Don't touch me!" she shoves him off, "I hate you! I don't _ever_ want to speak to you again, Woody Hoyt! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME RIGHT _NOW_!"

He stares at her silently for a moment, then he leaves.

Jordan breaks down and cries. When she feels a little better, she starts her iPod. Landslide by the Dixie Chicks and Stupid by Sarah McLachlan _always_ make her feel better, after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm on a roll, baby! I am exhausted, though… **** The Spanish is "my couch is your couch, friend." "Bueno dias" is Spanish for "Good day." I'm not the greatest at Spanish; I have the basics, you know? The song Adia actually plays a big meaning… the meaning of the song is that Sarah's friend, Emily, had a boyfriend; Sarah stole that boyfriend and married him, and she wrote the song Adia for Emily, because she knew it was wrong. So in this story, Emily/Adia is Jordan, Lu is Sarah, and Woody is the boyfriend.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Crossing Jordan. Do you?**

Jordan is in her black camisole and grey sweatpants when someone knocks on the door. She sighs and pulls her hair up into a high ponytail and goes to answer it, her iPod faintly playing Michelle Branch's Everywhere.

"Hey!" she grins at the sight of Danny McCoy, her friend and one-time lover.

"Hey," he grins back, catching her in his arms.

He pulls her back and studies her, raising an eyebrow at her bulge.

She rolls her eyes and explains, "Danny, meet Aimee Cavanaugh."

"Wow," he sighs, "Just- _wow_. When you called and said you were in trouble… I had no idea…"

"That it would be this?" she snorts when he nods in response.

"Yeah, well," she sighs heavily, "Mi sofa es su sofa, amigo."

"Gracias," he chuckles.

"De nada," she mumbles in answer.

When he is settled on her couch comfortably, she heads into her bedroom and crawls under the sheets. She lies on her side with a hand folded gingerly over her swelled torso. Jordan whispers to Aimee, though she knows that she is not developed enough to hear her. Jordan likes to think Aimee _can_ hear her, though.

She falls asleep and for once, she does not dream.

***

"Bueno dias!" a loud voice exclaims, and Jordan groans, fumbling for the pillow.

"What the _hell_, Danny?" she growls, ripping the red-cloth covered pillow from his hands.

"Good morning, sunshine!" he singsongs brightly, putting Jordan in an _extremely_, non-hormonal, foul mood.

"Argh… what time is it?" she sighs resignedly.

"Eleven," he grins.

"SHIT!" she screeches, bolting upright.

He watches in amusement as she darts into the bathroom very fast.

Jordan showers quickly and changes into a pair of jeans and a dusty rose-colored tunic. She then heads into the kitchen, takes her vitamins, and grabs a bagel to eat on her way to work. When she arrives, her curls in disarray, Lily eyes her.

"You're about three hours overdue," Lily states.

"Sorry," she mumbles sheepishly, "I, uh, I have a guest in my apartment."

"Do I know him?"

"Yes," she sighs, "It's not the way you think, Lily; we're just friends!"

"Who is it?"

"Danny McCoy," she mumbles, "He offered to come and help me out."

"Cool," Lily nods, smiling slightly, "He seems… nice."

"Yeah," Jordan says flatly, "He is. We're just friends, Lily."

"Oh," it comes out more as a question, and Jordan hugs her friend.

"I need to get to work," she sighs, "Let's meet for lunch at McDonald's?"

"Sure," Lily agrees, "Around noon."

"See you then," Jordan promises, leaving her friend for the autopsy room.

Her John Doe is perhaps sixteen. Just a kid, and already dead; it depresses Jordan that Johnny Doe's life was cut so short so soon. He was obviously shot in the head. She sighs and gets started with cutting the poor boy open, wondering if all humanity was being flushed down the toilet.

***

"Danny!" she shrieks, finding him in her office, rifling through her drawers.

"Uh…"

She snatches the files from his hand and glares.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she growls, arms folded across her chest.

"I, uh, came to see you, but you weren't here so I, uh…" he shrugs and sends her a sheepish smile, "I guess I, uh, wanted to see if you had anything interesting in there."

She rolls her eyes and sighs, absently picking up the snow globe and tapping it with her nail.

"May I?" he reaches for the globe, and she reluctantly hands it to him.

"This is really cool, Jordan," he smiles, "I didn't know you liked snow globes."

"I don't."

"Then why…?"

"It was a gift," she sighs and takes it from him.

"You're not going to tell me," he states, and he frowns when she nods.

"Sorry," she sighs, "I'm not one to kiss and tell."

He grins idiotically and teases her, "So! This globe _must_ mean something big, then! What, did Woody give it to you after he knocked you up?"

She does not answer, her face contorted into a tight grimace. Jordan sinks slowly into the couch and buries her head in her hands, trying to hide her pregnancy-induced tears.

"Jo…" he whispers, "I'm sorry… I didn't… I didn't know…"

"I know," she murmurs, "It's, uh, it's complicated, Danny. I don't really feel like explaining myself to you right now. I got to… I gotta go… I'm meeting Lily for lunch."

She sighs, stands and grabs her purse, and hurriedly walks out of the office, determined _not_ to cry. When she passes Woody and Lu coming out of the elevator, his arm slung around her shoulder, the tears flow freely. They cascade down her slightly chubbier-than-usual face as she gets in the rickety machine. She feels Woody and Lu eyeing her curiously, but Jordan pretends to be fascinated by her shoes, which she can now barely see.

Jordan walks the eight blocks to McDonald's, and finds Lily in a small booth in the back. Lily hands her some food and stares suspiciously, but does not say anything. Finally, Jordan cannot take it any longer, and she breaks down crying. Lily awkwardly hugs her, trying to bring comfort to Jordan.

Neither one needs to say anything. They know what's wrong with Jordan, after all.

***

Lily was sprawled out on Jordan's bed, with Jordan's feet in her lap. Danny was in the other room on the couch, and the two women were taking advantage of the free time. Jordan's iPod blared My Immortal by Evanescence, and she hummed along softly to the melodious voice of Amy Lee. When the song ended, it changed to I Will Not Forget You by Sarah McLachlan.

"You two need to talk," Lily sighs.

"I can't," Jordan chokes on her tears, "I mean, _look at me, Lily_!"

Jordan gestures to her large belly and wails, "I'm _fat_!"

"You're not fat, Jo," Lily says calmly, "You're pregnant. You'll lose the weight when Aimee is born."

Jordan continues grumbling and Lily continues to try to soothe her, to no avail.

***

Lily and Jordan are at the Beef 'N' Brew on Tuesday when someone taps the microphone. Lily raises an eyebrow, because there are no live performances scheduled. Then, a familiar voice permeates the room.

"I, uh, I'm going to dedicate a song right now," Lu says, "To Jordan Cavanaugh, right there in the back."

Jordan remains unaffected, even as strangers look at her. It is then that Lu pops a quarter into the jukebox and Sarah McLachlan's Adia plays. Jordan's eyes widen, and sickened, she dashes out of the restaurant. She gets in her car, vision partially obscured by tears and she drives madly to her apartment. Danny watches as she rushes in and locks herself in the bedroom. He hears her crying and knows something is wrong.

"Jo?" he asks, knocking cautiously.

"Go away!" she moans, and he opens the door and sees her curled into a ball on her side, her cheeks stained with tears.

He nods, watches her for a moment, and silently leaves. He sinks onto the couch, angry and upset. Danny never really liked Woody Hoyt much; he was arrogant, but Danny was good-natured and had given him a shot. Two shots, actually, and now he wanted nothing more than to rip his balls off. Danny cared for Jordan, and he did not like Woody for hurting her so. He had seen him with that blonde-haired woman, who was lovely enough, but Woody had gotten Jordan pregnant and left her! Danny McCoy was mad, and when Danny McCoy was mad, it was not pleasant. He grins evilly as a plan forms in his mind.

**End Note:**

**So, what do you think? I know the dialogue is somewhat sloppy but my teacher taught me to write dialogue the way people actually speak, and so I did. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: So… tired…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing and I'm okay with it for now.**

Jordan had been in her room for about four hours now. Somehow, she had turned her iPod on and her playlist blared Michelle Branch, Evanescence, and Sarah McLachlan repeatedly. Her hand rested on her bump and she sighed wistfully as Sarah's melodious voice sang Fumbling into Ecstasy.

"I won't fear love," Jordan mumbles, then snorts, "Right."

When she exits the room, she sees Danny sound asleep on her couch. Jordan tiptoes out and gets into her truck, driving to Lily's apartment.

"Jo!" Lily is surprised to see her.

"Hey," she nods, "May I come in?"

Lily nods, appalled, and permits Jordan into the apartment.

"I need to talk to you, Jo," Lily sighs, "I'm glad you came."

"What about?" she asks, smiling.

"Jeffrey," she says, "I'm having… having second thoughts about him, Jo."

"Oh?" she raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know… is it too soon?" she sighs heavily.

Jordan smiles and says, "Lily, relax. It will all be okay."

Lily nods and agrees easily, "Yeah… you're probably right, Jo. Now, why are you here so early?"

"I just needed to talk," she sighs.

"Alright," Lily frowns but nods nonetheless.

Jordan talks about _everything_, from her father's immediate dislike of Woody, of his kindness, of his growing tumor, of how he reacted to her pregnancy. She poured her heart out about Woody and Danny, and she wondered aloud if she should try to get married for the sake of the baby. Of course, her being Jordan Cavanaugh disallowed this, so Lily did not worry. She nodded, clucked her tongue, and comforted Jordan when needed, but listened to her, intrigued.

Lily knew Jordan disliked her at the beginning, but somehow it seemed they had known each other for years. At dawn, the two go out for coffees (decaf for Jordan, of course) and pastries. When they have eaten, they carpool to the morgue, and Jordan passes out on the couch in her office, drifting into an easy sleep.

***

"Hello, sunshine," Jordan stiffens at the familiar voice, blinking awake sleepily.

She is aware of her surroundings, and all too relieved that the throw blanket is covering her telltale bump.

"Cal," she grumbles, "What the hell…?"

"I guess Woody didn't tell you?" he asks, frowning.

"We're not on good terms," she sighs, stretching.

"Why not?" he pesters, still frowning as he eases down onto the couch beside her.

"Long story," she exhales, "So, Cal, you answer my question, I answer yours."

"Well," he starts cheerily, "I got a relatively cheap apartment and a job working at a little bar not too far from here."

"Oh," she sighs heavily.

"Why aren't you talking? Last time I was here he couldn't keep his hands off you," Cal grins cheekily at the memory, and Jordan kicks him gently in the shin.

"This," she sighs, sitting up, "Is why."

She yanks the blanket off her lap, turning to face the filing cabinet. Her hands cradle the swelling protectively as she stares off into space, tremendously embarrassed.

"My… my God," he mumbles, and she just nods, sinking back into the couch. She sneaks a peek and sees his mouth form a wide 'O'.

"Yeah," she nods, sighing, "It's… it was complicated enough as is, now… now this…"

"How far…?" his voice falters, still in shock.

"About eighteen weeks," she answers.

"He… didn't mention… this when I asked about you, said I should talk to you myself… now I see why," he sighs.

"We're not… we're not together," she chokes back her tears.

"I… guess that's why he didn't tell me. Lu… she was over… I get it now… she's his girlfriend, right?"

"Ugh," Jordan swallows back the bile, "Please do not use the words 'Lu' and 'girlfriend' in the same sentence _ever_ again, Cal, or I'll throw up all over you and laugh."

He chuckles and says, "Sorry. Wow… what a mess…"

She nods meekly, and he reaches out and places his hand over her tummy. When Aimee flutters timidly again, he grins happily like a kid at Christmas.

"Aimee," she mumbles, "Her name… is Aimee."

"Aimee," he sighs, "So… beautiful…"

They sit like that for a while, until Jordan stands and waddles to the bathroom.

He stares at the snow globe on her desk and frowns, sensing its meaning.

***

When Jordan returns, she finds him sitting behind her desk, the snow globe in hand. She frowns.

"I didn't know you liked snow globes," he murmurs, not looking up from it.

"I don't."

"Then why…?"

"Woody gave it to me," she says in an agitated voice, snatching it out of his hands.

"Oh," it finally clicks, "That must be…"

She nods, not wanting him to say it aloud.

"Was it… your first time?"

"God, Cal! I'm not going to stand around here and entertain you with fascinating stories about my dull, dull sex life!" she exclaims, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

"Sorry," he mumbles sheepishly.

"No, you're not," she smiles weakly, sighing, and says, "No, it wasn't, but I'm not about to tell you everything. Keep dreaming, Cal."

He nods, face serious, absorbing the information.

"I'm a mess," she chuckles, sitting down, "I cheated on my boyfriend with Woody… he left me, last I heard he's in Washington, D.C., and I'm pregnant. As if that isn't bad enough, there's Lu… she's really nice, Cal, and as much as I'd love to hate her, I can't."

He stares at her awkwardly, unsure of what to do when she states, "My friend has moved in with me, he's going to help me out… I miss him, Cal."

"I know," he murmurs, coming over and pulling her into a weird hug, "Shhh, I know…"

She sobs into his shirt, and he continues to comfort her, knowing who exactly she missed.

"I know," he breathes into her ear.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I feel depressed… again… so I guess… well, anyways. I just want to let you know, I'm not halfway through. I plan on forty or fifty chapters and a sequel, just so you know. I'm depressed because I had a good dream and I woke up stupidly missing the person it was about… she has abandoned me…**

**I had a second dream where I gave birth. Which was scary, since I'm only fourteen. O.O**

**Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan belongs to Tim Kring and NBC. However, the plot is mine.**

Life sucks, and then you die.

That was at the very least the way Jordan saw it. Maybe it was the hormones, but she did not think so. When Jordan was a teenager, she did not really care if she lived or died. Life had become a tedious burden, but she did not end it. She had far too much on her plate to do so, and that attitude had stuck with her. Jordan Cavanaugh had lost her innocence when she found her mother dead on the dining room floor, and, similar to virginity, it was never to return. It was gone forever, and it allowed her to become hard and cynical early on in life. Woody Hoyt had lost his innocence, she was sure, when he had shot Herman Redding.

Why she bothered which such menial thoughts as innocence, life, death, and suicide, she did not know. She was sitting in the break room with her swollen ankles propped up on the table.

"Hello, love," Nigel comes in, grinning; he continues, "I made some yogurt. Raspberries and mint, would you care to try it?"

She nods, smiling, and answers, "You know it, Nige. Thanks."

"Gladly," he agrees, getting a bowl and filling it with the mush. He puts a spoon in it and hands it off to Jordan, who wolfs it down quickly.

He chuckles slightly, and she glares.

Her latest craving has been yogurt, and naturally, Nigel, ever the scientist, decided to appease her. Nigel was far too good to Jordan and Aimee. He was a nice person, nice looking, but he was practically Jordan's twin. Maybe before she had met Woody, before she had been given a chance to fall head-over-heels in love with him, maybe then they stood a chance. Nigel had given up on the "what-ifs"; they would merely keep him tossing and turning. Instead, he loved Jordan, and now Aimee, in as platonic a way as possible.

"Nige?" her voice brings him out of his silent reverie.

"What is it, love?" he asks, anxious, "Are you two all right?"

"I was asking if you wouldn't mind doing the X-Ray of Carolina Thomas," she repeats.

"Oh," he nods, "Sure, of course."

"Thank you," she says, smiling.

"Of course, love," he smiles back, patting her gently on the tummy.

She sighs and leans back into the chair, mind drifting uneasily to the case.

Carolina Thomas was a stripper, twenty-four years old, and married to one _very_ satisfied customer, a certain Mr. Jerry Thomas. He was thirty-eight years old, had had three wives, and was known to be unfaithful; he was relatively wealthy, working as a lawyer in a small firm downtown. He had met Carolina three years ago; she was a prostitute then, and she had been since she was seventeen. He had taken her in, his "pet" his previous wife had said, bemused. Carolina was a sex addict, though, and this last wife, Alanis Carson, had found a job for Carolina in a discreet strip club near the house. It did not stop the inevitable affair between Carolina and Jerry, though, and last Thanksgiving, Alanis had packed her bags and left. She now had custody of their six-year-old daughter, Rochelle Thomas. She had been a successful accountant for a large firm, and the pair lived in a small downtown apartment not too far from Jerry's house. The newlyweds had said their vows on Valentine's Day in a small ceremony in Las Vegas. The theory was that Alanis had found out and murdered Carolina, but it was not airtight and so they continued.

Jordan sighed wistfully, and got up. She waddled into her office, thinking about how bittersweet love really was.

***

Jordan had been working for fifteen hours straight, and still, nothing. They had absolutely zilch on Ms. Carson, and even more on Mr. Thomas. She was beginning to believe they might as well throw him in jail; Ms. Carson did not seem harmful, just a crazed ex-lover, pissed that her husband would be so quick to marry a girl almost half his age. Jordan knew the feeling well, and if she did not have Aimee, she probably would be like Alanis.

As it was, Lily agreed she should handle talking with Alanis, because maybe having someone to relate to would make her open up.

Garrett had told her to go home three hours ago, and that was when Lily got the brilliant idea, and so Jordan had been waiting in her office. It is then that Emmy is at the door, telling her that Alanis is there, and with a heavy sigh, she stands and teeters into the crowd.

"Hello, Ms. Carson," Jordan sends the woman a wan smile, waddling into the room with an extended hand.

"Oh, please," Alanis scoffs, "Call me Alanis."

Jordan nods, sitting down across from her.

"You must be Jordan Cavanaugh," Alanis smiles.

"That I am," she nods, "So sorry that I could not be here for the last meeting, uh, Alanis, I had some paperwork that needed to be done."

"Oh, it's fine," she shrugs it off easily, "Congratulations, by the way. I remember I was violently ill with Rochelle up until the bitter end."

Jordan frowns and sighs, saying, "Well… thanks, Alanis. I'm almost five months along, actually. Either way, let's talk about Carolina and Jerry…"

***

When Alanis _finally_ leaves, Jordan grabs her things and heads out. It has now been nineteen hours since she last slept, and Jordan is exhausted. They had received the case that morning at midnight; now it was seven o'clock in the evening the next day. It was humid and icky, and all Jordan had eaten was yogurt, chocolate, and takeout from Ming's.

When she gets home, Danny needs to talk with her. She starts cooking and chats, until his voice is small.

"I need to go," he says quietly, "I'm sorry, I really am… I just am needed elsewhere."

"Oh," she nods, "Well… okay."

"Would you mind terribly driving me to the airport tomorrow at one?" he asks, grinning sheepishly.

She smiles back and shakes her head, murmuring, "Not at all."

They eat in comfortable silence, and then, when the dishes are done, Jordan waddles into the bedroom.

He watches her go, and his heart aches for her.

***

The phone is ringing at two in the morning.

Groaning, Woody answers it, careful not to wake Lu, who is sleeping peacefully beside him.

"Hoyt," he whispers, cupping the phone. He glances at the blonde, and then, decision made, he stands slowly, and pads off into the bathroom. He shuts the door quietly and sits on the edge of the bathtub.

"Woody," Cal starts, "Woody…"

"What is it, Cal?" he growls, agitated.

"It's Jordan," he sighs, "She… Woody, she popped some Advil; she's stable now, but…"

"Oh, God," he mutters, sinking down lower, "Aimee…?"

"They think she's okay," Cal hesitates, "They're… they're not sure, though… they're still running tests. She asked for you before she lost consciousness."

"My Lord," he exclaims, "Boston General?"

"Yep," he imagines Cal nodding, "Listen, I have to go, but be here soon… she needs you, Woody."

He hangs up, and after a brief moment of shock, he bangs into the bedroom. Startled, Lu sits up, and watches as he dresses hurriedly.

"What is it?" she asks sleepily.

"Jordan," he tells her, not slowing down, "She's in the Emergency Room."

"Oh my God," Lu squeaks, bolting out of bed and grabbing for clothes.

When they are both dressed, they dash out the door, barely remembering the keys. Tears form in Woody's eyes, and Lu reaches across the seat for his hand. She smiles reassuringly, and starts the engine.

They drive in nervous silence to the hospital.

***

"Excuse me," Woody interrupts the chatty secretary, who looks immediately irritated with him, "What room is Jordan Cavanaugh in?"

She sizes up Woody, with Lu clinging to his side, trying to comfort him.

Sighing, the woman says, "Room 615."

He nods, thanks her hurriedly, and runs off, Lu trailing behind him like a lost puppy. Nigel, Bug, Danny, and Garrett sit outside her room; inside he sees Lily and Cal on either side of her bed. He barges in, and they look up, nodding to one another. Cal claps a hand on Woody's shoulder briefly before he leaves, Lily following. Woody sits at her bedside and holds her slightly smaller hand in his, with Lu on the other side.

Neither one dares utter a word.

***

When Jordan comes to, she is groggy and disoriented. She is aware of someone holding her hand, and the memories flood back front and center. She blinks rapidly and sees Lu pacing around the foot of the bed, oblivious to Jordan, and Woody, head slumped in his hand, the other one clutching Jordan's thin fingers for dear life.

"Aimee…" she croaks, and he looks at her.

Woody and Lu share a nervous look, and instantly she fears the worst.

"Aimee is…"

**A/N: HAHAHA I AM EVIL! I will write more soon, I promise. :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: *continues maniacal cackle* I shall rule you all. :3 Enjoy! Also, I do not believe Lu is the devil incarnate. Do I like her? No, but in my book, she is unavoidable for WoJo and I will live. I'm going to write her, sometimes as a good guy and other times as a bad guy.**

**Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan belongs to Tim Kring and NBC. All I own is this plot.**

"Aimee is…" Lu starts, "Aimee is…"

"What?"

"Aimee is fine, Jo," Woody smiles, "Jo… you're both fine, but why the hell did you do that?"

She bites her quivering lower lip and turns away, refusing to answer.

"Let me… have a minute with her?" Lu asks.

Woody nods, kisses Jordan's forehead, and leaves. Lu sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, ever wary of Jordan's mood. Cautiously, hesitantly, Lu takes Jordan's smaller hand in her own, squeezing gently. What had Lily said to Jordan about Lu? That she loved Jordan. She was beginning to believe it.

"Lu…" her voice falters, "I… I was depressed… and… I just had this giant headache, and… I just took one… but I kept… I kept on taking… until I passed out… Danny found me… on the floor of the bathroom… passed out…"

Lu sits, hanging her head sadly, and whispers, "I'm sorry, Jo… I'm sorry for everything I've done to you…"

Jordan reaches out and places a weak, trembling hand on Lu's cheek. The younger woman turns, a broken smile plastered on her face, tears tumbling in a downwards spiral.

"Everything… happens for a… a reason…" Jordan murmurs, voice cracking with emotion.

Lu nods, taking it in, and rests her head gently on Jordan's shoulder, lying back with her. Jordan quietly and thoughtfully runs a hand through her silky bob, feeling the way Lu shuddered with each breath, each sob that wracked her fragile body.

Eventually, Lu fell into a peaceful slumber, and Jordan smiles wistfully. She yawns, placing her head atop Lu's, and joins her graciously.

***

When Lu awoke, she smiled at Jordan wanly. Her eyes drifted to her belly, where the older woman's hands rested gingerly. Lu traced a rose upon her swelled abdomen, through the crinkly, flimsy fabric of the hospital gown Jordan donned. Aimee rewarded her with a swift, bold kick, and Lu smiled, chuckling lowly. She then traced her name- Aimee –onto Jordan's stomach, and felt as she fluttered about. Lu envisioned the child, hidden and lovely, growing within her friend's stomach… safe, cozy… warm… protected…

The doctor comes in when Jordan wakes, checking her out. Then Lu asks her, "Can I… listen to the baby's heart beat?"

The doctor looks at Jordan, who nods absently, still dazed by hearing the heartbeat for herself; for some odd reason, the baby had not been real to her until hearing the calming swishing of her little heart.

Jordan shudders at the cold touch of the stethoscope, and Lu places it in her ears, a grin lighting her face as the baby's fluttery heart comes into focus.

"Wow," Lu breathes.

"Wow," Jordan agrees, breathless.

***

After more tests, reassurances, warnings, lectures, and an emergency sonogram to be sure Aimee was doing okay, Jordan was _finally_ released. However, she was to have someone with her, and as Danny was gone, Lu had offered her couch up for the time being.

After verbally protesting, Jordan reluctantly agreed, and the two had packed up her important things at her apartment. Now that she was unpacked and on Lu's couch, it felt… surreal; she would never have expected this, not in her wildest dreams, and it made her nervous and jittery. She was to stay with Lu, who was, as a psychiatrist, able to monitor her, for a few months. The TV was on low; there was a baseball game on, Sox versus the Yankees. Jordan rolls her eyes and shuts off the television set, trying to become comfortable on the sofa bed.

It would surely be a long night.

***

She already missed her apartment, which was being rented out briefly to some young artist from Tucson while she was gone.

It was her ninth day at Lu's, and she was bored out of her skull. Jordan had been kicked out of the morgue, and Lily was sitting with her on Lu's couch. They were talking and eating yogurt. Brownies were baking in Lu's oven.

"Are you as bored as I am?" she asks Lily, frowning. Lily, too, had been kicked out of the morgue, mainly just to keep Jordan from returning and from popping pills.

"Yeah," she nods, sighing, "I wish there was something we could _do_."

"Well," Jordan grins mischievously, "We can go dingdong ditch people."

"You're really immature," Lily states, rolling her eyes.

"That's why you love me," she wags her eyebrows, and Lily hits her with a pillow.

"Ow!" Jordan giggles, hitting her back.

The two battle it out with the pillows, until the oven goes off. Lily gets the brownies out to cool, and forcibly removes Jordan from the kitchen, while she cusses and whines in protest.

"Just gimme a damn brownie!" she exclaims, pouting, hands on her hips.

"You gotta wait, Jo," Lily sighs, "Just ten minutes."

"I can't wait," Jordan complains, dramatically sinking to the floor, clutching her throat, eyes rolling this way and that.

"You really are immature," Lily grumbles, a slight smile creeping onto her lips.

Lily picks up a shrieking Jordan and pushes her down onto the couch, hitting her with a pillow. Jordan grabs another pillow and hits her, and the two fight. Soon the pillow fight turns into a full-fledged tickle war, and twenty minutes pass by easily.

"BROWNIES!" Jordan screams, dashing into the kitchen, with Lily chuckling and rolling her eyes as she trailed behind her.

Jordan all but rips a brownie out of the tin, eating it quickly. Then she continues shoveling in food, while Lily watches in horror, protesting.

When Jordan is done, she bounces out of the room, and Lily shakes her head.

That girl was a piece of work.

***

"So, what did you do today?" Lu asks Jordan.

"Lily and I ate brownies," she says in a squeaky voice, causing Lu to raise an eyebrow cautiously at the redhead.

"No," Lily chuckles, "I made brownies, and you ate them. Lu, you should have seen her… it was _priceless_."

"Is she okay?" Lu asks.

"That's like asking the ice cream man if he has ice cream," Jordan states.

"Shut up," Lu and Lily groan at the same time.

"Yes, ma'am!" Jordan yells, mock-saluting them.

The two talk quietly in the kitchen, and when Lu returns, the two women chat amiably.

Around midnight, Lu heads to bed, and Jordan counts the cracks on the ceiling.

She _really, really_ misses her apartment.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I am depressed… there's no other way to say it. I just am. A meeting with Stiles.**

**Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan belongs to Tim Kring and NBC; I own nothing but this plot.**

"Jordan?" Emmy asks.

"Yes?" Jordan looks up from the autopsy report in front of her, irritated. It is now the middle of June.

"Doctor Stiles is here to see you," she announces.

Jordan groans, stretching, and tells her, "I'll be there in a minute."

At almost twenty-two weeks pregnant, Jordan is a little larger than usual. Dr. Nash says this is normal, since she is older. Her face is rounder, glowing softly.

She waddles into the conference room. She has not seen Stiles since February.

"Congratulations," he says with a slightly sadistic smile.

"Thank you," she mumbles, sitting down.

"How far along are you?"

"Almost twenty-two weeks."

"Oh," he nods, "So you were expecting when I last saw you."

"Yes," she answers warily.

"Have a name yet?"

"Aimee," she says quietly, "Aimee."

"It's a girl."

"Duh."

"Sorry," he chuckles wryly.

She smiles and says, "It's okay."

He sighs, and she sighs.

"When are you due?"

"October 19."

"Who's the father?"

"Doesn't matter," she answers icily.

"Still single, then?" he teases.

"Yes," she traces a heart absently on her abdomen, "But I'm not exactly looking for anyone right now."

"One-night stand?"

"Since when is my sex life your business?"

"Since I said so."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, it was a one-night stand."

"Random guy?"

"…No."

"Who, then? Someone I know?"

"Woody."

"Oh."

"Oh."

"Isn't he seeing Lu?"

"This was before."

"I see."

"Yes, you do."

"Lucy Carver Inn?"

"Yes."

"So… he's with Lu. How does that make you feel?"

"I'm okay," she shrugs nonchalantly, "Aimee and I will survive without him. I'm just glad he's happy."

"That's good."

"I know."

"You're staying with Lu, though."

"Yes."

"How is that?"

"Fine."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She's still my friend, Howard."

"I would not think so."

"Really," she smiles reassuringly, "I'm fine."

"Oh," he leans in curiously, "Are you?"

***

A fuming Jordan leaves the morgue forty minutes later. She stops in the locker room, looking in the mirror. Her hair is pulled back in an impromptu French braid, and she is wearing artfully fraying denim capris and a grey cotton t-shirt. She has her sneakers on.

She leaves then, knowing where she needs to go.

***

"Knock, knock," she smiles tiredly, and Woody glances up from a report on his desk.

"Oh," he nods casually, "Hey, Jo."

"I have the autopsy report right here for Maggie Staines."

"Great," he says, eyes on her belly.

"Here," she thrusts it at him.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," she sighs, turning to leave.

"Jordan- wait, please."

She stops in the doorway and pivots around, asking in an annoyed tone, "Yes?"

"How are you holding up?" she can tell from his hesitation it is not his original question.

"Perfectly," she snorts, rolling her eyes, "May I go now?"

"Jo."

"That's my name," she retorts, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"If you ever need anything. I'm here for you."

"Okay," she nods, frowning a little bit, "I gotta, uh, go. Bye."

"Jo- wait!" he hollers after her, but she is long gone, hot tears stinging her eyes.

He sits down, pinching the bridge of his nose, head in his hands.

He really screwed up with Jordan this time.

It was almost like watching his own train wreck.

He wondered briefly what would have happened if she had taken his ring, if he had believed she truly loved him, if they did not sleep together.

He stops that last thought guiltily.

He, too, loves Aimee. Woody also loves Jordan.

He does not know quite how to express it, though.

There's another problem.

Lu.

Woody loved her, too.

_What a royally fucked up mess_, he thought, laughing wryly.

It was almost bittersweet.

_Almost_.

**End Note: Sorry if it's a little short. Like I said, I'm very depressed.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I am depressed again. -_- Damn rain. Cannot wait for April. This is an AU story, yes, but some of the stuff will be canon. Just so you know. Some WoJo in this chapter. :) **

**Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan belongs to Tim Kring and NBC; I own nada but the plot and my own people.**

"You doing anything Friday?" Woody asks, trying to seem casual and failing.

"Actually," she sighs, "I am."

"Oh?"

"Garrett wanted me to come by. Family dinner with Maggie and Abby, and he really needs the moral support."

"That's wonderful. Be sure to invite me to your wedding," he states icily. She looks up from the file on her lap.

"Is there a problem here?"

"Yeah, there is," he says hotly.

"Enlighten me."

"Why are you going out with other guys?" he nods at her stomach.

"God, Woody. It's just Garrett!"

"Even so…"

"Woody," she sighs, exasperated.

"Yes?"

"I don't belong to you," she says, tone indifferent, "In that macho head of yours, you have this idea that just because we created this life together, you have a claim on me. I've known Garrett for ten years now, and believe me, if I wanted more than friendship, I would have had it by now. I'm sick of your alpha male crap, Woody."

He watches her stand, tossing the file onto his desk.

"I'm done," she whispers, choking back tears.

Woody watches Jordan leave, and follows her. He was tired of her running. He needed her to stay in place.

"Let go of me!" she yelps, twisting. He did not realize he had pinned her wrists behind her. They were alone in the hall, a thrashing Jordan against the wall. She glares at him.

His lips crash onto hers before she has a chance to stop him. His hands tangle in her hair, propping her upright. His teeth graze along her lower lip, his tongue tracing the familiar shape of her mouth. She lets him in, and one hand fists his shirt, pulling him closer, while the other finds his short hair. A low moan escapes her, and stars explode behind her closed eyelids. She is afraid if she opens them, it won't be real. His lips find her collarbone, her neck (which arches at the contact) and her ear. Finally, his lips meet hers. They pull away, gasping quietly, foreheads pressed. Their noses rub, and in a fluid, synchronized movement, their eyelids flutter open at almost the same time. They are still wrapped in a vice-like hold, or at least as much as one as Jordan's condition will allow.

It is then that someone clears their throat. Woody stands in front of Jordan, who is blushing furiously. They do not need to look. They know perfectly well who caught them. It wasn't a surprise, really, that Lu was there. She had probably been in her office and come out for the evening.

"Jo?"

"Lu…" Woody cautions.

"I need to take her home," Lu sighs, "Woody. I'll be talking with you later."

Jordan waddles after her. They do not speak until they sit in Lu's car. Jordan is about to speak, but she hears Lu sniffle and realize she is crying. Guilt wells in her stomach, and she feels like a selfish asshole.

"I won't say I'm sorry."

"Good."

"I will say," Jordan begins slowly, "That I really did not mean to hurt you."

"Lip-locking with my boyfriend didn't seem like it'd hurt me?" she asks, failing to keep her tone light.

"I was stupid. I won't even make excuses."

"I know he started it, Jo."

"How?"

"You're staying at my apartment. You would not just be so stupid."

"I still kissed him back, Lu," she murmurs.

"I know," Lu sobs, "It's not your fault."

She continues to chant "it's not your fault" as they drive off. Jordan attempts unsuccessfully to talk with her. Finally, she gives up. They do not talk at Lu's apartment. Jordan hears Lu crying in her room, and she stands. She hauls her hugely pregnant ass into the bedroom. Without a word, Jordan lies down beside her and strokes her hair.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I know."

They stay like that for a while, clinging to one another for dear life.

Eventually, Lu settles down and falls asleep, snoring softly. Jordan watches her tear-swollen eyes stay shut, and she, too, drifts off.

***

The early golden light fills the apartment. Jordan is on her back, rigid. Lu is curled into a tight ball at the other side of the bed, and Jordan envies her. She gets up slowly, tiptoes back to the living room, and lies down. She is thinking.

She falls asleep at some point in time.

***

When Jordan wakes up again, slightly disoriented and groggy, she waddles into the kitchen. She starts coffee for Lu and tea for her. Her breakfast is a peanut butter sandwich. Jordan has always had a strange revulsion to peanut butter, but it is the item she most craves. She figures it must be because Woody loves peanut butter. When she is done eating, she showers and dresses.

Jordan scrawls a note for Lu and leaves.

The morgue is busy this morning.

***

Woody comes in with one of the new ME's; Jordan believes her name to be Ginny, but she is not sure. The girl is frighteningly pale, and Jordan chuckles humorlessly.

"Hey," Woody says, frowning a little bit.

"Hey," she responds nervously.

Their awkward, silent conversation goes on until what's-her-face coughs loudly. An irritated scowl plastered on her face, Jordan goes back to work on trace.

If they could not work this out (she was pretty certain they couldn't) then it would be hell.

As if spending time with the obnoxious brat in Hello Kitty scrubs isn't bad enough.

Jordan has no clue how she got stuck with this, but somehow she did.

It would be a long day.

***

"You got the trace from Isabel Welsh?" asks the peppy, petite blonde. Jordan has now named her Cheery.

"Right here," she mumbles, adding under her breath, "Cheery."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Jordan explains quickly, an apologetic smile on her face.

"Right," Cheery nods, rolling her eyes in distaste, "It's Ginny."

"I _knew_ it was something like that."

"Mhm," she retorts coolly, going back to her autopsy.

Jordan sighs tiredly and continues.

"So…"

"Yeah?"

"That detective… he's kind of cute, don't you agree?"

"I suppose," she shrugs nonchalantly, "Why?"

"He have a girlfriend?"

"Sort of," Jordan bites her lower lip, "Again, _why_?"

"I want to ask him out."

"Oh," she nods, "Well, uh, they're not on good terms now."

"Introduce me?"

"What?"

"Please?" she begs.

"Fine," she growls.

"Thank you!" Cheery, err, Ginny, squeals, hugging her.

"Ow, that hurts," she winces slightly.

"Sorry," Ginny smiles apologetically, "How far are you?"

"Almost twenty-two weeks," she sighs.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Who's the dad?"

"Woody."

"Who?"

"The detective you like," she smirks.

"Are you his girlfriend?"

"Nope."

"Then who is?"

"Lu Simmons. She's a detective."

"Oh? Why's she mad?"

"She caught us, uh, making out in the hall last evening."

Ginny nods, smiles weakly, mumbles her thanks, and leaves. She is less enthusiastic than before, and Jordan almost feels smug, watching her skinny ass sashay out.

The day was beginning to look up.

**End Note: The Hello Kitty scrubs thing was a joke from another show on NBC, LOL. If you don't get it, I'll explain in the next chapter. :]**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Computer trouble AGAIN! But I downloaded Open Office so I hope it'll help. And the Hello Kitty scrubs crack is from Mercy; great show. I'm naming the kid after, of course, Devan; the fictional character (who I did not like but I cried for anyways), and for my two Devons. Devon 1 I've known for nine years, Devin 2 for five years. We're not very close but I like them a lot. (: And Aimee is for Amy Lee of Evanescence; I listen to that Goth shit while writing my angst. But I thought Aimee was more modern and eccentric, so I chose it instead. Amanda is because it sounded a little better, and it is close to my friend Amber's name. I've known her for seven years, and I've hurt her so much, God, I wish I could take it all away! But I can't. So I'll honor her in this story instead.**

**Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan belongs to Tim Kring and NBC; all I own is the plot.**

Jordan sat awkwardly on the couch in Lily's apartment, scowling. Sitting at her feet was Lily, with Emmy on one arm of the couch, Lu beside Jordan, and pacing around the small room, a disgruntled Annie. Jordan wondered again what the hell the point of this was. She absently ran a hand through Lily's silky red hair.

"Why are we here?" Lu finally asked.

"Intervention," Lily hummed.

"Hmmm?" Jordan responded, arching an eyebrow delicately.

"Don't pretend I don't know," Lily grins, "Or that Emmy and Annie don't know, Jordan. We're going to help you sort this out, whether you like it or not."

Three days after Lu witnessing Jordan and Woody kissing in the hallway, Jordan had been declared mentally stable and Lily had helped her move back into her apartment. Now all that was left was to settle things between Jordan and Lu once and for all.

"I know we're not really close," Emmy smiles nervously, "But really, Jordan. I care about you."

"I'm here for Lu," Annie grinned wolfishly, "No offense, Jordan. I like you and all, but you kind of fucked up, man."

"I didn't," Jordan protested, "I didn't kiss him! He kissed _me_. Don't believe me, that's fine. But it's also the truth."

Lu rolled her eyes, exhaled impatiently, and said, "Lily, really. I don't have a problem."

"Do so!" Lily exclaimed, sticking her tongue out childishly.

This petty bickering went on for a little while, until Jordan simply stood and left. The other four women gaped at the door.

***

Jordan's phone rang, and she grimaced.

"Cavanaugh?" she answered, wary.

"Hey, Jo," Kim's voice came through.

"Oh, it's you," she began casually, "Thank God."

"I'm going to stop by the morgue today. Quinn Marshall has one of my cases, uh... the deceased is Victoria McKinley. Anyways, I figured we could get together or something."

"Okay," Jordan sighed, "I'll be in my office. Just heading there now, actually."

"See ya soon," Kim says, "Bye."

Jordan exhales when they hang up. She has yet to tell Kim that she is expecting. It certainly doesn't help that she is going to have to tell her this way. Jordan walks to the morgue, sullen and cautious. She waddles into the elevator, hating as people shuffle nervously around her, as if she's fragile just because she's hugely pregnant. Doctor Nash says this is normal given her age, but it still makes Jordan grumpy nonetheless. A couple of people congratulate her. Jordan glares and wades through the crowd onto the tenth floor. Then she continues to have allowances made for her as she shuffles towards her office. She scowls as she plops down on the couch, a migraine coming on full-force.

"Jordan?" Nigel says, grinning, "Kim is here."

She smiles weakly and watches as Kim enters the room. She assesses the scene, Jordan with the blanket wrapped tightly around her.

"I got cold," she explained.

"Oh. My. God!" Kim squeals, seeing the telltale bulge.

"Yeah," Jordan nods, "Yeah. I'm, uh, due October 19."

"Congratulations!" Kim claps. Nigel has since left, and Kim sits beside her friend.

"Uh huh."

"What's wrong?" she frowns.

"Aside from being a grossly pregnant cliché? Nothing!" Jordan rolls her eyes, a tad bitter.

"Was it that Australian guy? What was his name again? J.D.?" Kim asks.

Jordan shook her head and told her, "Woody. Coworker."

"Ha! Never thought of you as one for an office romance," Kim waggles her eyebrows suggestively, causing Jordan to smack her playfully on the arm.

"It was a mistake," she mumbled, "My boyfriend left me for it. Woody is seeing another woman, Lu, she's a detective and psychologist. I know he'd care, J.D., if I told him, but Kim, it's kind of unfair, you know? So I'm just alone waiting out my days."

"Well," Kim brightens a little, "Maybe that's Woody's way of passing all his psychological evaluations with flying colors."

Jordan snorts halfheartedly and murmurs, "Yeah. Well, maybe."

Kim sighs and glances over at Jordan. They had been friends since they were eight. Despite their differences; Kim getting married straight out of law school and having a child, Jordan's promiscuity through her early thirties, they had stayed in touch.

"Aimee," Jordan tells her, "My baby's name is Aimee. Devin Amanda. Aimee."

"It's a girl!" Kim shrieks, giddy again.

"Seems that way," Jordan replies, letting her friend hug her tightly.

"I know Woody has hurt you," Kim begins, slow but serious, "But it seems that ever since you met him you've changed for the better, Jordan. I was worried about you, with that guy years ago. But you've grown up, and like it or not, it's Woody's doing."

Jordan nodded, letting her friend's calm words sink in.

***

Woody pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, staring at the floor. A knock startles him out of his reverie.

"Hey," Lu smiles cautiously.

"Hey."

"Woody..."

"Look," Woody sighs, "I don't know anymore, Lu. You're a great woman, and I care about you, I really do. It's just I love Jordan, twisted as it seems, and it's unfair to you. She's pregnant with my baby, Lu! That can't be easy for you."

"You're a great guy, Woody," her resolve wavers a little, "And I think maybe I was falling in love with you. But you want my opinion?"

He nods.

"I think," she sighed, "I think that we should take a break; we could get together maybe after Jordan has the baby. But right now really is not the time for us. I know you love her, Woody. It's hard _not_ to love Jordan. So follow your heart, Woody, and don't feel like you owe me a thing, because I've had fun and we both know we will always be pining after her."

"Thank you," he whispers, "Really, Lu. I feel so horribly guilty."

"I know you do," she smiles sadly, "And that's why you're such a great guy, Woody."

With those words spoken, Lu leans down, brushes her lips resignedly against his, stands, nods, and leaves without looking back.

"See you around," he says softly, watching her leave.

He sighs, the headache gone but the heartache stronger.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: OH NO WHERE DID MY LINE BREAKS GO?!?! DX**

**Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan belongs to Tim Kring and NBC. Do you _really _think that if I owned the show I'd write this shit? Nope! =/**

Jordan lay sprawled out on her couch, a blanket thrown across her, absently eating some Doritos she had picked up after work, focused on the rerun of _The X-Files _that was playing on the Science Fiction channel. It was a marathon, and currently she was watching one where Mulder got stuck in the Bermuda Triangle on the ghost ship. She always cried at the end of that one. She did not know why. Maybe because really, Mulder's timing _sucked_.

The TV set changed to an advertisement starring some perky blonde twenty-something with ginormous breasts trying to sell... Life insurance? Really? Jordan groaned and rolled her heavy body off the couch. She used the bathroom quickly and then stared down her fridge, frowning. Finally she sighed and pulled out the makings for nachos. It wasn't really what she wanted, but it would have to do. Five minutes later, Jordan settled onto the couch with her nachos to watch the ending of the episode.

When it was done, Barbie returned front-and-center in all her Botox-and-boob-job glory. Maybe she was on this advertisement because all that shit had gotten to her head. As Jordan pondered the meaning of a prestigious company hiring some overly Botoxed Barbie, the phone began to ring. She huffed impatiently and sat up, groping for the cordless on the coffee table.

"Cavanaugh," she answers, swinging her legs over the side of the couch.

"We have a body, Sydney is God-knows-where, Peter is at Allison's grave, Nigel isn't answering, Bug is off-call, and this seems like your case," Garret says in one huff.

Jordan sighs, nods, and responds, "Okay, Garret. Where is it?"

"Great, thanks," he sounds relieved, like maybe he is grinning, "Uh, it's at the docks."

She scribbles down the address and makes her way there. Woody is the lead detective. She crouches beside the body and he watches her.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks.

"My job," she responds dryly, "Time of death appears to be between five and seven hours ago."

She flips the woman and tells him in a clipped, professional tone, "Looks like the cause of death was this knife wound here. Maybe a hunting knife."

He walks over to her and before he can fully comprehend what he is doing, he is dragging Jordan up roughly by the arm. She turns and scowls, twisting her arm away.

"What the hell, Woody?" she growls.

"Jordan," he sighs gruffly, "Jordan. I don't know why the hell you're here, and quite frankly, I don't like seeing you bending down and exerting yourself so much. You're pregnant, for God's sake! Take a breather, Jo."

"Garret called me in," she says coolly, her whiskey eyes burning with indignation, "So you're stuck with me. But thanks for your concern. I'm pregnant, not a cripple, Woody. I can still work."

"You can," he agrees, not backing down, "But I am _not_ letting you bend any more than you have to. You pulled a double last night! I'm going to lift this body and put it in the van, okay? As much as it makes you squirm, that's _my_ child in there as well, not just yours. And if I say you're working too much than Jordan, you are working too much. I know you. I know your habits. And so help me God, I will call Garret and force you to go on early leave if that's what it takes. Look. I care about you Jo, I really do. And I also, as hard as it is to believe, love our daughter as much as you do. And I'm not going to let you risk her."

Tears welled stupidly in her eyes. She sniffs and brushes them away. He smiles faintly and lifts the body onto the gurney. He wheels it into the back of the van and helps her into the driver's seat. He sits beside her in the passenger's side, watching the way her bulging waistline poked out from under the white t-shirt Jordan wore with hip-hugging maternity jeans. She also wore sneakers that looked big on her normally small feet. Her curls were swept up into a messy bun on top of her head. Tears ran down her cheeks, now a common occurrence. She sighed and started the engine, shooting him a weak, exhausted smile. He realizes she probably is not sleeping well. For the millionth time today a bolt of guilt wracks his body.

The car inched along slowly. _She's becoming a better driver_, Woody thought, a little surprised. He realized that of course the pregnancy was changing Jordan, but he had believed just physically. Maybe it was making her more careful. When someone cut her off she did not curse like she normally would have. She grimaced and moved on.

"How're things with Lu?" Jordan asks randomly.

"Nonexistent."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry to hear that, Woody."

"It's okay. Not your fault."

"I guess."

That's about it for conversation. Woody helps Jordan roll the gurney into the freight elevator. She sucks in a sharp breath and her hand flutters to her bulging stomach.

"You okay?" he asks, genuinely worried.

"This kid," she groans, "Is kicking me to death right now."

"Just like her mother," he teases; Jordan glares.

"Here," he says, moving awkwardly. He places his hands on her large tummy, one above and one below, cradling it. He rubs small, gentle, timid circles and coos to the child.

"Come on, kid. Don't do this to your mother."

Jordan can't help smiling faintly. She knows the kid can't hear Woody yet; she is only about twenty-six weeks along. But she does not have the heart to tell him this. He grins boyishly when Aimee calms within her.

"Thanks," she whispers. He doesn't withdraw his hands. He remains fascinated, gingerly pressing his fingers into the swelling. His face lights each time the child stirs inside of Jordan. His eyes meet hers, and something passes between them.

In that instant, reality finally sinks in after almost seven long months. Jordan is pregnant. Jordan is having a daughter. Jordan is going to have a baby. Jordan is going to be a mother. Jordan is carrying Woody's child in her womb. Woody's daughter. Woody was going to be a father. Whether Jordan liked it or not, in that moment he knew he loved the baby she carried. The baby that had been with them since that one night of passion. Growing, always there. He hated the child at first. It took his freedom; he would be stuck with Jordan because of the child. But now, looking into her hazel eyes, hands still on her distended abdomen, it struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Woody loved Aimee. He would do anything for her. He would be a father to her. He would. Because he loved Jordan, too, he realized suddenly.

The moment passes as quickly as it came. Woody removes his hands, smiles shyly, and helps wheel the body into the crypt.

"Nigel? Mind searching Missing Persons?" Nigel grinned impishly at Jordan and nodded.

Twenty minutes later they had an ID. She was Isabella Jayne Schuyler, twenty-five, originally from Madison, Wisconsin, on vacation in Boston.

"Wisconsin," Jordan smiled evilly, obviously up to no good.

"No, no, no. Jordan, you are going to _stay right here_, you are _not_ coming with me to Wisconsin!"

"Why not?" she asked, pouting.

"Cop, coroner."

"Right. When has that stopped me before?" she asked, snorting and rolling her eyes.

He merely grunted in response, still mumbling, "No, no, no, _no_."

* * *

He sighed. It was five hours later and he was sitting on a plane, Jordan asleep beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. She looked so beautiful. Pregnant and feminine and vulnerable.

And extremely infuriating. She had insisted on coming, and truth be told, Woody would rather have her with him. At least then he'd know that both Jordan and Aimee were safe and near him. They would share a room, this time one with two beds. Jordan had protested but he had told her that it would make him feel better if he knew that Jordan and Aimee were nearby. He assured her there would be two beds this time. He just needed her close.

The airplane was landing. Unwilling to wake Jordan Woody fumbled with her seat belt. She stirred but didn't wake up. Instead her head landed on his shoulder again. Her arms draped across his lap. He swallowed, focusing on her large torso instead. Covering it was a light green maternity dress; he had told her to change into comfortable clothes. She opted to wear a dress and boots.

"Jordan," he whispered, gently shaking her. She groaned and shoved him weakly.

"Jo, we're here. We're here."

She blinked lazily and smiled.

The scene at the airport was a blur. They went and checked into the hotel. Jordan, for once, was content staying in the room. She was exhausted. She went into the bathroom and when she returned she was in a fading yellow t-shirt and gray sweats. Her curls were pulled into a sloppy ponytail. She flopped onto the bed on her back, a hugely pregnant 'X' shape. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she sighed.

"You okay, Jo?"

She nodded, "Tired."

"Okay," he replied, "I'm, um, I'll go interview Isabella Jayne's family."

"Cool," she mumbled.

He chuckled humorlessly, more than a little nervous at the thought of leaving her alone.

"Go," she growls, all but reading his thoughts, "I'll be fine. Really. No need to be anxious."

He nodded and reluctantly left, sneaking one last glance at Jordan, still sprawled out on the bed.

* * *

When Woody returned it was obvious to Jordan that all had not gone well.

"So?" she inquired.

"So," he sighed heavily, trying not to take it out on the mother of his child, "So Isabella Jayne's lover, Starr, was certainly less than helpful. She was too distraught."

"Oh?" she prodded, knowing he was not telling the whole story.

"Starr is pregnant, Jordan," he answered, looking at the door, "She's pregnant and alone without Isabella Jayne. It's her twin brother's child. He's the, uh, father. They wanted kids. So Starr decided to get pregnant. And now this."

"Shh," Jordan waddled over to Woody and sat beside him on his bed, resting her head timidly on his shoulder. "It's not your fault."

She groaned and he grinned.

"Aimee at it again?"

She just nodded, "Ungh. My back is _killing_ me. My feet have imploded for all I know. I think the last time I could _see_ them was in April or May."

"Here," he said softly, turning her. He put his hands on her back and rubbed shyly. When her back was done he worked on her feet. She sighed wistfully.

"Thanks," she smiled weakly.

"Jordan," he says, "I want to be here for Aimee. I love her."

Her brow creases but she allows him to continue.

"Your father has called asking when we'll be married. I don't know what to tell him. But I know you, Jordan. I know you'll turn me down, most likely. And I also know we aren't ready for that sort of commitment right now. So I told him we're gonna take it slow, a day at a time. And that the most important thing in our lives was our daughter, Aimee. I'm gonna be there for her Jordan, I _swear_. And maybe in time things will work out between us."

She nodded, then responded, "You're right."

"Good," he grinned boyishly.

She sighed.

A few hours later Woody watched Jordan as she slept. His cell phone rang.

"Hoyt," he answered softly.

"W-Woody?" Starr's scared voice reverberated in his ears.

"Starr? What's wrong?" he asked, now in cop mode. He moved to the bathroom and shut the door so he would not wake Jordan.

"He's here," she whispered. Then there was a scream and the line went dead.

Woody ran out of the hotel room. He needed to save Starr and her baby before it was too late.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Sorry it took so long! I have finals coming up in a couple of weeks. And I've still got the last minute stuff that comes before you graduate from middle school. And naturally with my lovely personality I'm depressed that I'm moving on to high school. Okay enough ranting! Let's get this story going!**

**Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan belongs to Tim Kring and NBC. I own nothing. Sorry.**

There was a dull ache in the side of Starr's head. _Baby_, she thought faintly, _Baby_. She was aware that she was moving; maybe in the back of a van. It was Isabella Jayne's brother, Thomas Aaron. Jesus, what was with Isabella Jayne's family and double names? Starr briefly wondered why in hell Thomas had done this.

_"Tommy's in trouble again, Starr."_

When was Tommy _not_ in trouble? In the past six years that Isabella Jayne and Starr had known each other (and in the past four years when they were lovers) they had often talked about Thomas Aaron. He was a paranoid schizophrenic, the polar opposite of Isabella Jayne, who had been kind and warm and loving. Starr often found their romance to be so odd. Her mother was appalled, naturally. Isabella Jayne had gotten in trouble covering her brother's ass, _again_, and the judge had made her tutor high schoolers. Really it was not the worst punishment in the entire world. Starr had been a month shy of sixteen when they met. As Isabella Jayne was nineteen then, they hit it off right away. It was a sisterly thing at first, but they began dating three months before Starr's eighteenth. However, Isabella Jayne had made them wait to become official lovers until Starr's birthday. They had decided last Christmas to get pregnant. Wanting DNA as close to Isabella Jayne as possible, they got Thomas Aaron to agree to donate. Starr was due Christmas day. At four months, Starr barely showed.

The van lurched and Starr choked back a sob. She let her thoughts wander once more to her life before and after Isabella Jayne had met her.

* * *

Meanwhile, Woody Hoyt was growing frustrated as he glanced over the records for Mister Thomas Aaron Schuyler. He was twenty-five, relatively good-looking, small. Mentally ill, yes. Which just made his job a hell of a lot more difficult. Finally he came up with something remotely concrete. Thomas Aaron Schuyler owned a small warehouse that had been auctioned last October near the university. He quickly left a message for Jordan, got some backup from the Madison Police Department, and sped off to the warehouse.

Backup arrived soon and they entered guns-a-blazing. Thomas Aaron was babbling crazily in a corner and Starr was curled into a ball in a crate nearby. Alive but hurt badly, it was obvious from a quick look-over. They got her into the ambulance and Woody rode in the back with her. Once Starr was okay he should have asked her questions; instead he called Jordan and requested that she came. Jordan did and he left the two to talk. Jordan sat in the chair beside Starr's bed and Woody watched from the threshold as the two women talked; one heavily pregnant, one expecting in five months. He smiled wistfully and left them.

He would question Thomas Aaron. He knew Jordan would be better with Starr. He was relieved she understood what he was doing.

Hell. These days he was relieved about anything that remotely involved Jordan and his relationship, or lack of one, if you wanted to be literal.

* * *

There is a time, later that evening, when Jordan is alone in the hotel room. She picks up the phone, and with a shaky, hesitant hand dials the number she has tried so hard to forget.

"Pollack," he answers after five rings. It's like nothing's changed and that makes her a tad nostalgic.

"Hey," she says, cautious.

"Hey! How are you, Cavanaugh?" he tries to be cheerful but she can hear the irritation creeping into his voice.

"Uh, JD," she says, "I'm doing... okay for myself, I guess. Uh, how about you?"

"I'm doing fine. How's Hoyt?" she knows by his too-careful tone he is asking how their relationship is.

"Look, we, uh. Well he's doing fine. But we're not really together. I screwed up for nothing," she lets out a low, ironic chuckle.

"Oh," he says, feigning disinterest, "Well, I met someone. Sort of. Not really. Her name is Ashlynn. She works closely with me. We have an on-and-off sort of thing."

"Oh, well I'm happy for you," Jordan responds, more than a little awkward.

"Yeah," pause, "Why are you calling me? Not that it's not great to hear from you, it's just, uh, a little unexpected."

"I'm my own worst enemy."

"What you do this time?" he asks, sighing.

"I'm pregnant," she sobs, letting go of all her defenses, "It's Woody's."

"Why are you telling me this?" he demands, anguish clear in his voice.

"Because I'm alone, JD. Woody is trying, he really is. But I need someone to talk to and I can't talk to anyone here."

There is a silence and JD finally replies, "Well, I have to go. Date. Call me if you ever need anything, Cavanaugh."

"Thank you," she whispers, vision blurred by tears. She sniffles and wipes across her face with the back of her hand.

Then she sits on the bed and bawls.

* * *

When Woody returns, he finds Jordan asleep. He smiles sadly. She hadn't slept much the night before. Not that he was aware of at the very least. He crawls into bed and watches her sleep. She murmurs something and rolls onto her side. He chuckles softly under his breath. She mumbles in her sleep. Jordan Cavanaugh, of all people! Who would've thought?

He falls asleep listening to her tiny sleep sounds.

* * *

The morning is a rush. Woody heads over to the 17th Precinct to wrap the case up and Jordan visits Starr in the morning.

"Hey," the younger woman smiles as Jordan waddles in, grimacing slightly.

"Hey," she responds cheerfully, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Starr grins, "I think the baby may or may not have started moving."

"Wow," Jordan breathes, "That's great! I remember when Aimee first moved."

"Aimee?" Starr furrows her brow in confusion.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot. My daughter, Devan Amanda," she gestures to her swollen abdomen, "Aimee for short. Due October 19, 2006."

"Nice," Starr smiles, closing her eyes, "I'm around eighteen weeks along. I'm having a girl, too. Due Christmas day. I'll name her Isabella Jayne. I'll call her Sally for short."

Though Jordan found that somewhat odd she complimented Starr nonetheless. They chatted for a little while longer, then Jordan stood and left. She went to a little deli near the hotel and ate a quick lunch of chicken noodle soup and half of a corn beef sandwich. Once done she returned to the hotel and placed a brief call to Woody's brother, Cal, who lived in Madison somewhere now. He agreed to meet her for dinner at the hotel's small restaurant. Jordan reads, then naps. At six o'clock she showers and dresses in a sleeveless grey maternity dress that proudly and boldly defined her entire torso. She is in the restaurant for perhaps five minutes when Cal shows up. She stands to greet him. He raises a knowing eyebrow and grins at her tummy. She sighs and rolls her eyes, though she, too, is smiling as they sit down. Their dinner is short but comfortable. Cal insists on paying and he tells her it was nice seeing her again and congratulations, call me when Junior is born!

Exhausted, Jordan returns to the room. She changes into an oversized white t-shirt and climbs into the bed. Her curls splay out across the pillows and sheets and she sighs, hand resting on her belly. Her eyelids flutter shut and she smiles pleasantly as Aimee stirs inside of her, restless.

It is quiet moments like these that Jordan loves the best. She knows that when Aimee is grown she will return to these snapshot memories and then maybe, maybe, everything will be perfect again.

She is content. Almost euphoric.

There is no place she would rather be right now than heavily pregnant in a Wisconsin hotel room waiting on her best friend and the love of her life to return from battling bad guys.

* * *

Woody has everything wrapped up; Thomas Aaron Schuyler is being transferred to Boston first thing tomorrow morning. Most likely he will be committed.

Woody decides to take a walk in the nice July twilight. He returns to the hotel at around eleven, having stopped briefly for dinner and drinks, then deciding to watch the Packers game on TV (a tape, of course, of a game between them and the Miami Dolphins from a few years back). He readies for bed and hesitates before crawling into bed with Jordan. He wraps his arms around her and breathes in her scent. So, so beautiful. So, so sweet.

He sighs wistfully, sadly, resentfully, almost. She mumbles his name in her sleep and he grins. He loves this. Loves just watching as Jordan sleeps. He will never, ever grow tired of this, he is certain.

There is nowhere else he'd rather be than holding his best friend and unborn child in a small hotel room in Madison, Wisconsin, watching as she slumbered and praying over and over to God that he still had a chance.

Hoping, hoping. That was all he had and he clung selfishly to it.

Hope was a finicky thing, he realized.

He sighed and drifted peacefully off to sleep with Jordan limp in his arms.

_"Oh lord, I've been a damned fool. Please, please give me the strength for one more chance. Please, please let me have this beautiful woman and my daughter. Please, God, please!"_


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: My life sucks. :/ Sorry it's taken so long. -.- And as for the scene I don't really want to bump the rating so I'll just make a separate one-shot, okay? Sorry it's so short. :/ But you do get a lot of WoJo AND Jordan progressing!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own nothing. See previous chapters 'cause I'm too lazy to write it out.**

It's August now. Jordan's sitting on her couch and looking at the giant swollen protrusion from her abdomen that is her child. Aimee Cavanaugh. What will she do when she's older? Where will she go when she's sad? Who will she love? Who will her children be?

She sighs and traces faintly a heart on her tummy. She wants these next two months to die. She wants to meet her daughter. It's the evening so she waddles on home. She orders in a vegetarian pizza and scarfs all of it down. She watches two episodes of The X-Files then goes to bed.

She dreams of Woody.

* * *

Lu is out of town on a case. Woody confides painfully in Jordan that they're taking time off for now. Secretly Jordan is relieved. He's offered to cook her dinner that night and she agrees. She's on her couch in a white tank top and artfully ripped denim bermuda shorts that barely reach her knees. Her tanned stomach is bared and she's pulled her hair back into a loose, sloppy braid. She sits on the couch in her apartment. He's cooking her linguine with red clam sauce. He comes over and sits next to her. She's got The X-Files on. He's pleased to have gotten her into the show. It's that episode with William getting born. Well it's those two or whatever. He's explaining it to her and thinking to himself, _Lu doesn't get it. Lu doesn't like The X-Files._

They eat quickly and watch more of the show. They're on the couch and Jordan's practically in his lap and she smells like Jordan and he missed this, oh God he did. His lips are on hers before they can think. And then she _is _in his lap and he's kissing her. They're making out and somehow they find themselves in her bed.

And later he looks at her sleeping form and knows they need to talk about this, that they can't keep doing this to themselves.

But for now he sleeps with her.

* * *

In the early dawn she wakes to find herself stretched across his chest. She makes a move to go and his grip tightens. He murmurs sleepily, "No. Stay."

"Woody, I really gotta pee," she says, and his eyelids flutter open. He nods and lets her go. She makes a beeline for the bathroom. Once her bladder is emptied and she's washed up she returns and crawls into bed with him.

"Sorry about that, your kid just loves to kick the shit out of my bladder," she grins weakly, mildly, timidly at him.

"So, Jo. We're not going to avoid this. Pretend it didn't happen. We're going to talk like two adults, okay? And whatever we decide it'll be okay," he tells her earnestly, full of truth.

She sighs and whispers, "Lu."

"What about her?"

"We can't..." Jordan falters, swallows and begins faintly again, "We can't do this to her, Woody."

"I know," he murmurs, "But this is about us."

"I love you. I always have and I always will. Nothing will ever change that, Woody. But we're not right right now. Last night... it was a moment of weakness but I don't think it was a mistake because I now have the courage to say this you."

"Jordan..."

"No, Woody, God dammit, you will listen to me," she swallows, voice trembling with emotion. She turns and faces him as she continues, "I'm fucking sick of this. Of me. Of you. I'm fucking sick and tired of _us_. Of moments of weakness and falters and ill-timing and girlfriends and boyfriends. I'm sick of all the muck. I'm sick of it, Woody. For seven fucking months I've denied that I love you. I've seen and felt my body change in ways I've never imagined and quite frankly, I'm scared shitless right now to think of becoming a mother in just two months. And that night wasn't some fucking mistake, Woody. I'm fucking sick of pretending, of denying, of lying, of cheating, of everything and anything. It never ends, Woody. When will it fucking end? I just want to scream. I just want to fucking scream all that I've kept inside, kept at bay, the past fifteen months since you got shot. I want to scream and scream and make people feel what I've felt, Woody. _I'm. Fucking. Sick. Of. This. Of. Us. Of. Everything. Of. Everyone. I. Just. Want. To. Scream!"_

She's gasping and panting and breathing erratically when her rant is over and he's just staring at her in awe and shock. Jordan feels like a huge weight has been finally lifted and it's too good to be fucking true.

"What can I do?"

"You can start by listening. You can start by telling Lu about this. We're not right, you and I. Not right now at the very least. We will be, Woody. We love each other. But right now we're only hurting each other. We've got too much pent-up anger and hurt and sadness and angst and frustration and too much fucking feeling needing release to be okay right now. We'll release the feeling and then we'll be right. I know it."

"Okay," he nods slowly, absorbing all that has been said. He sighs. She sighs and smiles sadly, wistfully.

"We can talk now, Woody. We'll talk and it'll be okay. Everything will be just fine."

He nods, for once believing her.

Everything really will be just fine.


End file.
